


whatever you wish for, you keep

by oh_simone



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Families of Choice, Friendship, Gen, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-14 08:57:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11779758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_simone/pseuds/oh_simone
Summary: Iruka saves a young fox kit in the schoolyard, and is forced to deal with the (not so bad) consequences.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Suuupe casual and self-indulgent thing written on my phone during morning commute, so please forgive any egregious spelling errors/typos. I've fixed as many as I could find, but I expect I'll be making little adjustments as I inevitably find and fix more.  
> Thanks to minty for gamely reading every half-baked thing I produce!

“Ah, shit,” Mizuki said absently, “what are the little brats up to now?”

“Hm?” Iruka finished scribbling in the margins of tomorrow’s math lecture and looked up. His colleague was staring out the window of the teacher’s lounge and smirking. That didn’t bode well; Mizuki was a decent enough educator, but he tended to treat his charges with amused condescension. Sometimes, it put Iruka’s back up, but right now, he was more curious as to what had caught his friend’s attention. He craned his head to see out the window which overlooked the recess yard of Konoha Elementary. It was about half an hour after the final bell had rung, and most kids were already gone; only the track team and a handful of other students were still around. Mizuki tilted his mug in the direction of the corner of the yard that ran along the edges of Konoha National Park, separated from the thick forested mountainside by only a thin chain-link fence. A group of kids were huddled around the fence, and from the way they all seemed to be intensely focused on the same spot on the ground, it certainly hinted towards trouble. Iruka sighed and glanced at Mizuki who laughed outright and backed away.

“Oh, I’m off the clock, my friend. If you want to take responsibility, it’s all yours,” he declared, and wandered from the room. Iruka scowled at him, then looked back outside. The playground monitor was distracted by some parents, and therefore was unaware that the little mob had progressed to pointing and furtively kicking at whatever they’d found. With a sigh, Iruka swept his papers into his messenger bag and looped the strap across his shoulders before draining the rest of his coffee and dropping the mug in the communal sink on the way out.

It was early enough in the school year that the fading summer heat still clung to the streets and buildings outside. Iruka rolled up his shirt sleeves absently as he strode across the yard and onto the grass field.

“Hey!” he shouted when he was close enough to the cluster of kids. It was still too early for him to recognize all the new students on sight, but he definitely recognized a few of them from last year, including the one Mizuki uncharitably described as “a rancid diaper pail of a kid”.

“It’s Umino!” once of them hissed, and with a small explosive flurry of limbs and backpacks and nervous, manic cackling, they scattered in all directions. Iruka had been on the job long enough that he didn’t even bother to feint a chase, just rolled his eyes and made a mental note to alert Diaper Pail’s homeroom teacher. He continued over to the spot they’d been clustered around, growing alarmed as he spotted the small, furry huddle half buried in the grass.

“What on earth are you doing here?” he muttered as he drew up to the edge of the yard. Pressed against the fence, its narrow muzzle baring a fierce toothy grin was a young fox kit, brown and fluffy, but starting to show tufts of reddish fur. It yipped at him and thrashed nervously as Iruka bent forward for a better look. The chain link fence rattled, and abruptly, the barking slid into a shriek of pain. Iruka crooned meaningless words as he scanned the kit quickly—No blood, no visible injuries at least, he was relieved to note, except for a few clumps of dirt that the kids had kicked into its fur. Iruka craned his head for a better view of the fence; he didn't want to alarm the poor thing any more, but he also knew there were some loose patches of dirt along the fence, worn dusty ditches underneath due to weather and children who'd watched the _Shawshank Redemption_ one too many times.

“Silly kit,” Iruka said. “Most children try to run away from school.” The kit had fallen quiet, watching him with wary blue eyes. An odd color for a fox at this age, but then again, Iruka wasn’t any sort of animal expert.  He finally noted the source of problem—the kit had indeed squeezed through a slender little gap, but its tail had somehow wedged under a narrow point of the fence and became pinned to the dirt when the chains shifted. Iruka stepped closer and carefully to the side of the fox, ignoring the renewed yipping. His hands hovered over the chain links for a moment, and then in a quick, smooth movement, he hauled the fence upwards. 

The kit exploded out from under the fence, tore a tight circle around his legs, and dove back under the fence, this time oiling smoothly to the other side and streaking towards the forest. Iruka let his grip go, rattling the fence all along the playground, and placed his hands on his waist. 

“Go on,” he told the little fox where it hovered at the edge of the tree line, its head cocked at him.  “Schools are for little girls and boys, I'm afraid. Next time you come visit, make sure you’re better prepared!”

The fox’s chin jerked up. “Thanks, Sensei!” it yipped back and darted into the forest. 

Iruka blinked and frowned.

After a moment, he shook his head and sighed. Animals sometimes sounded remarkably like humans, he thought with a shrug, and trotted back across the field towards the school’s main gate.

 

 Konoha was always beautiful in the fall. Even Mizuki who was generally dismissive of the town grudgingly admitted that the trees here wore their colors particularly well.

Now, the mountainside village was aflame in reds and golds; Iruka’s own walk to and from school led him past the trailheads that climbed steeply up the mountain. As he passed the local shrine, he waved in greeting at Gai, the resident caretaker of the shrine, wilderness expert, and fitness guru. Today, he must have come straight from the gym, outfitted as he was in his bright green tracksuit.

“Afternoon, Gai,” Iruka greeted. The older man paused his sweeping and waved back cheerfully.

“Sensei! What a glorious afternoon for such a felicitous meeting! How are the bright and glorious passions of our precious youths today?” he asked, with no hint of irony.

“Not too shabby,” Iruka called back.  “Could do with a little less pep, to be honest.”

Gai laughed and ambled down the stone steps to the sidewalk, swinging the broom over his shoulder. “Such clever wit! But surely the youthful vigor of our next generation is no match for you.”

Iruka scratched the scar that bisected his nose and grimaced in reply. “I just caught a handful of the brats cornering a wild fox in the school yard,” he sighed. Gai’s expression turned solemn.

“Oh, dear,” he said. “Was it injured?”

Iruka shook his head. “They didn't get much further than frightening the poor thing half out of its mind, but I’ll probably be bumping up our ‘how to play safely with nature’ talk. I imagine someone will be reaching out to you soon.”

Gai struck a confident thumbs-up and flashed his trademark grin. “I welcome the opportunity to engage with our thoughtful and curious young minds about the beautiful bond we establish with mother nature.”

“Thanks, Gai,” Iruka laughed. “and maybe throw in some cautionary tales about leaving wild animals alone, will you?”

The caretaker of the shrine agreed wholeheartedly, and Iruka continued the rest of the way home.

His small apartment building was off a side street a couple blocks north from the main thoroughfare and across the small wooden foot bridge over a small tributary stream, a good fifteen minutes walking from the school. When Iruka had taken the position at Konoha Elementary, the school had offered use of their teacher dormitories, but one look down the grim, gray corridors with that thick damp smell of old porridge and socks, and he’d resolved to pay for his own place. He'd figured he’d spent enough of his life in public housing such as that, and if it meant he ate instant noodles for dinner a few times a week and worked evening and weekend shifts at the mayor’s office, it was still worth it for the aging little one bedroom on the ground floor, with old, warping wooden floors and a bathroom that was so cramped Iruka suspected it once was an actual closet. But even with the cracking along the window frame and the finicky pipes that seemed to run its average temperature in direct contrast to the weather outside, it was quiet and sunny, with a small back porch that had a rusting grill in the corner, and doors that closed and locked. It was entirely his own space— no bunk beds he had to share with five other boys, or piles of dirty laundry from noisy college roommates.

Iruka didn’t have a shift at the mayor’s office until the next evening, so he made good use of his extra time, making a pot of rice and heating up a pouch of instant curry for dinner while mentally reviewing tomorrow’s lesson plan. He streamed some terrible show on his battered old laptop while he ate, letting the mindless noise of reality television wash over him. Then, it was a quick shower and a couple hours grading homework. By ten thirty, there wasn’t much else to do—none of his friends would be up for a drink this late, no parents to call, much less a significant other. After another ten minutes half-heartedly browsing some news sites, Iruka gave it up and went to bed.

 

This far from urban civilization, there were few Konoha residents that hadn’t encountered the odd deer or fox, maybe even a bear, strolling down the streets of town. It meant that wilderness survival courses were taught in each class, and that most kids grew up knowing what to do when they found bears rifling through their garbage. Some of the advice involved noisemaking or undignified flailing, but most of it boiled down to one essential tenet: don’t go out of your way to mess with wild animals.

It was a lesson that Iruka repeated to his own class the next morning. He didn’t name names, but hoped his pointed glances at a few red faces in the back were enough for now.

The rest of class went without incident, and as the students piled out at the end of the day, one of those kids lingered behind until the classroom was empty.

“Yes, Sakura?” Iruka said curiously. He didn’t know her very well yet, but it had been a surprise to see her yesterday as part of the crowd; she had struck him as shy and fairly sweet-natured and not one to torment any creature in distress. Her pale pink hair swung gently as she rocked on her heels.

Sakura mumbled something to her shoes, and Iruka had to prod her, not unkindly, to speak up.

“’m sorry about- about the fox, yesterday,” she whispered louder. “I didn’t want to hurt it, I was just curious.”

“That's fair,” Iruka said thoughtfully. “But next time, maybe give it a little space, and look at it from a bit further away. The baby fox might be cute, but they can hurt you pretty badly, if they’re scared as well. “

“I told Daisuke to stop,” she scowled, betraying a hint of temper. “But he just laughed.”

“Well next time,” _Diaper Pail_ , “Daisuke doesn’t stop when you remind him of the right thing to do, you come find me or another teacher.”

She inclined her head and returned his smile before scurrying outside, where her blonde friend was busying pretending not to eavesdrop.

Iruka followed her out of the classroom in a more cheerful mood. He had twenty minutes until he had to be behind the front desk of town hall, which was still plenty of time to swing by Ichiraku and pick up his usual dinner order.

What he did not anticipate, though, was a burst water pipe flooding not just the mayor’s office, but half the archives the floor below as well. Iruka arrived for his shift in time to hold the door for Kotetsu as he chased a small wave of water down the front steps with a broom. Iruka’s dinner was hastily shoved onto a counter in the pantry before he waded downstairs to help Izumo rescue the paper records and file cabinets. It was hard work that lasted well past dark, even with all staff and volunteers on hand, but by the end of it, most of the vulnerable records had been moved to the upstairs conference room, and Iruka was soggy, aching, and in need of a new pair of shoes.

“Go home,” Hiruzen Sarutobi, the mayor, ordered, shooing his deputy Shikaku and Iruka out of the building before turning to lock the doors. They were the last three to leave, the others having gone once the immediate damage was controlled—Iruka had stayed to help the mayor sort out some of the more sensitive files in his office, and Shikaku had been on the phone working out a schedule with the contractor for repairs. The mayor eyed Iruka with a combination of exasperation and fondness. “It’s a school day tomorrow, sensei, and don’t you know children can smell weakness?” His tone was teasing, though; once upon a time, he had been a teacher himself.

Iruka managed a tired smile. “Eh, this generation of kids have nothing on me, sensei,” he said; once upon a time, he had been the mayor’s own troublemaker.

Hiruzen laughed and patted his shoulder. “Someday, you’ll meet a student that’ll put you through your paces, like you did me. And then you’ll truly understand.”

Iruka laughed as well, and waved as he peeled away back to his apartment. His takeout from Ichiraku swung a heavy cold weight against his legs, and he glumly resigned himself to eating pale, soup-bloated noodles the consistency of paste for dinner. At least the heat had been turned on in his building that week; it was a touch warmer than ideal, but that first wave of warmth as he stepped inside was heavenly on his cold, damp self. Iruka showered quickly and changed into an old university shirt and sweats. He hung his clothes over the radiator and stuffed old sheets of newspapers in his shoes to dry. Then, having over-warmed himself, he dragged a chair outside onto the back porch and sat cross legged, slurping his noodles while his tired mind calculated how much sleep he would get if he tried to do his usual grading after dinner.

Iruka’s porch was fenced off by a low wooden rail, but had a small side gate that led the two steps down into the shared lawn. The backyard of the apartment building wasn’t so much a backyard as a storage area for abandoned lawn furniture and gardening tools, mostly covered in old, peeling covers and tarps. A thick hedge formed the back wall, and high wooden fences framed either side. Even in daylight, it was not much to look at, and for the most part, Iruka kept the window curtains drawn.

A faint rustle came from the yard, and Iruka, tired as he was, froze. He stared hard into the darkness, and wondered if it was a mouse, or maybe a stray cat. After a moment, he decided it wasn’t worth the effort to go inside and turn on the flood lights and continued eating, digging his chopsticks into the container and fishing for the slice of fishcake. His mind wandered off, too exhausted to hold a single thought for long, but then there was another sound, closer now, a soft pattering and Iruka looked up sharply into the blue eyes of the young fox who was frozen on the stop step of his porch, one paw posed tentatively over the final step.

Iruka stared.

After a long moment, the kit hoisted the rest of itself onto the porch and sat on its haunches, cocking its head at him. It was the fox that had been trapped under the fence yesterday, or at least Iruka assumed it was.

“…What are you doing here?” Iruka asked dumbly. Was he hallucinating? He reached up to rub his eyes, and the noodles hanging from his chopsticks slipped and splattered on the wooden deck.

Both sensei and fox stared at the noodley mess. The kit crept closer and sniffed at it, then, before Iruka could say anything, darted forward and snatched at a corner of the noodles, dragging it back.

“Aw, hey, wait,” Iruka protested weakly; somewhere, his past-self who’d just given a wild animal safety talk to a pack of ten-year olds was choking on hypocrisy. “That’s not—ok, well, you ate that.”

The kit licked its chops, seemed to consider what it had eaten, then stared expectantly at Iruka.

“I really don’t think you should have any more,” Iruka chided. “It’s probably not good for foxes. Also, it’s barely proper ramen anymore,” he sighed, stirring the leftover soup and picking at the soft noodles.

The fox seemed to frown. Despite himself, Iruka was a little awed—it wasn’t often foxes were so bold, even the ones that lived in the mountain above Konoha.

After a moment, the fox cocked its head again. It was such a human gesture that Iruka leaned over a little, and addressed it mock seriously.

“Yes, little fox?”

“What’s ramen supposed to taste like then?”

The smile on Iruka’s face froze.

The fox grinned at him, its tail twitching.

Iruka leapt from his seat. The fox yelped in alarm and scooted back to the edge of the porch as his chair toppled over.

“Aw, come on, I was just asking,” the kit whined.

“You can talk!” Iruka choked out. He glanced about wildly, half expecting Mizuki to roll out of the hedges laughing. “How can you talk?”

“Is that a trick question?” The fox asked warily. “How else am I supposed to communicate with you?”

“But- but you’re an animal!”

The fox scowled. “Hey, I’m a _kitsune_ , and I’m gonna be the strongest kitsune on this mountain someday, sensei, so ya better show some respect!” It puffed out its little furry chest and bared tiny white fangs.

 “Okay,” Iruka said slowly. “So, let’s say this,” he gestured between the two of them, “is actually happening and I’m not… losing my mind. What- what are you doing here, talking to me?” His voice went a little high at the end of it.

“My name’s Naruto!” the fox yipped, blue eyes gleaming brightly in the porch light. “You helped me out yesterday, and so I’m here to grant you a wish in return!”

“A… what?” Iruka asked.

Naruto gave a full-body wriggle of excitement. “A wish! Any wish! I can grant anything you want! Money, long life, food… maybe more ramen?” The kit paused here and eyed Iruka hopefully.

Aw, that was actually pretty cute.

“I’m, uh, it’s really, really fine,” Iruka said. “Happy to help. Don’t need anything in return. Thanks?”

“Ehhhh, really?” Naruto cried, sounding disappointed. “Are you sure you can’t think of anything?”

“I’m sure,” Iruka replied firmly.

With a heavy sigh, the kit flopped to its belly, and Iruka got the distinct sense that it was pouting. “Man, I never get to do anything cool,” Naruto grumbled. Huffing disbelieving laughter, Iruka finally gave in to his shaking legs and sat back on his chair.

“I think you’ll live,” he told it wryly.

“Yeah, but how’m I supposed to earn my _tails_ ,” the fox grumbled, ears twitching unhappily. “I’m tired of swimming rabbits across rivers and finding acorns for stupid squirrels. They keep forgetting where they hide them.”

“But those are kind things you’re doing,” Iruka pointed out, and shoved down the corner of his mind that was hysterically demanding why he was talking to a wild fox like one of his students. “Not everything has to be a grand gesture. And I’ll bet the rabbits and squirrels appreciate your help.”

“Sometimes, they get so scared, they pass out,” the kit admitted gleefully. “But most of them’re pretty cool once they realize I’m not gonna eat them. Speaking of, you never answered my question.”

“Huh?”

“Ramen, sensei! I thought the stuff you dropped was so good! Is there more?”

Iruka glanced down at the half-empty container, then at the hopeful little face, and huffed his amusement. “I don’t think anyone should be eating any more of this,” he said. “It’s an insult to good ramen. Real ramen is eaten hot, and the noodles aren’t soft like these, but firm and a little chewy.”

“Man, that sounds so good! I’m so hungry,” Naruto declared.

“Did you eat dinner?” Iruka asked.

“Yeah, some bugs and stuff. You know that garden next door has really good carrots.”

Iruka shook his head. “Be careful, Matsumoto-san really doesn’t like people messing with his vegetables.”

“Don’t worry about me! I’m the sneakiest and slyest of kitsune,” Naruto said proudly. “No one’ll ever catch me unless I let them!”

“Oh, really?” Iruka smiled. “So, what were you doing stuck in the schoolyard yesterday?”

“Senseeiiiiii,” Naruto whined, squirming, and Iruka laughed in spite of everything.

Above them, a light turned on and a window slid open.

“Umino-san?” his upstairs neighbor called. “Is that you?”

Iruka scrambled to his feet. “Did we- did I wake you, Suzuki-san? I’m really sorry; I’ll head inside in a minute.”

“Good night!” The window slid shut again, the lights went out. Iruka looked back down to where Naruto had hunkered down in the shadowed corner of the porch, eyes gleaming yellowish in the dark. The absurdity of the last five minutes came flooding back in full force.

“I think it’s best you head home,” Iruka suggested. “But I’m glad to see you’re doing well. It was nice to meet you, Naruto.”

The little fox scampered back into the light, dancing lightly on its feet. “Yeah, you too Sensei! But I don’t give up easily! If you can’t think up a wish right now, that’s okay, I’ll just wait until you think of one!”

“Hold on, Naruto,” Iruka said, but the kit gave at him a foxy little grin full of teeth and youthful verve.

“See you soon!” Naruto said, and bounded off the porch, disappearing into the night with only the slightest rustling.

“Ah-hh,” Iruka sighed, and scratched at the old scar over his nose. He stared into the yard a bit mindlessly before going back inside and wondering how much of the night he could write off as exhaustion. He snapped off the porch light and locked the backdoor behind him, which was why he didn’t see the silvery flash that darted silently out from under his porch and out through the back hedges.

 

The next morning had barely dawned when Iruka was dragging himself out of bed after far too little sleep. The soreness from yesterday’s unexpected hard labor was beginning to set in, and he shuffled stiffly into the kitchen to start the hot water. Then, he sat down and made up for all the grading he’d missed last night, grimly refusing to even think about his odd dinner.

By the time his usual alarm went off, Iruka was just about caught up, and feeling functional enough to leave for school a little earlier than usual, maybe with enough time to stop by the nice bakery for breakfast. Still, pointedly not thinking about dinner guests, backyards, talking animals.

Outside, leaves rustled under an overcast sky; the temperature had dropped drastically overnight, and Iruka knew from spending a quarter century in the shadows of the Konoha Mountains that life was about to get very cold, very soon. In fact, several of the shops and restaurants along the main street had already begun weather proofing their storefronts. Iruka passed the temple just as Gai wheeled a giant bag of salt out to the storage shed. One of the dogs that roamed freely about the temple grounds sprawled across the top step, its great scarred muzzle between its paws, tracking Gai’s progress. It eyed Iruka briefly, then snorted in dismissal. Iruka tried not to take offense; at least this one was just a dog. Hopefully.

“Good morning, Iruka-sensei!” Gai twinkled at him, unfairly bright eyed and bushy tailed.

“Morning,” Iruka replied. “Starting a little early, no?”

“It is a fine day to turn our precious time and energy to prepare for the coming winter! The first snow will be early this year, so speaks the glorious mountain that nurtures our village. Much to be done before then!”

“I had no idea the mountain was so articulate,” Iruka admitted.

“But, my dear sensei,” Gai cried, “it is always speaking to us! The trees that sigh as the wind drags through their boughs, the keen, quick squirrels that hide their winter stores in the same trees, the clever foxes that den under the roots in preparation for the cold!”

Iruka thought Gai must have watched a lot of Disney movies in his glorious youth. “We get a lot of foxes then, around Konoha?” he asked instead, scratching the tip of his nose.

Gai leaned on the wheel barrow. “Oh, less now than before. But you know that legend says Konoha was once the seat of a great nine-trailed fox?”

“You don't say,” Iruka said weakly.

“Our Konoha shrine may be small, but its roots run deep,” Gai declared with a blinding grin and wink.  

Iruka opened his mouth to ask—something, but was cut off when an arm snaked around his neck and towed him backwards.

“Hey, Iruka, look at you, leaving for work all early,” Mizuki said.

“Ugh, leggo.” Iruka grumbled and shoved his friends off and for a moment, they scuffled more like their students than teachers. As Mizuki dragged him off, Iruka managed to wave back at Gai. He waved back benevolently while the temple dog chuffed, offended by all the noise, and turned his muzzle away.

“What was that all about?” Mizuki asked as they headed down towards the school gates.

“What was what?”

Mizuki made a face. “That weirdo. What kind of conversation was that?”

Gai’s a good man,” Iruka protested. “Besides, who else would know about the wildlife around here but the guy who leads the Konoha nature walks?”

“Case in point—weirdo,” Mizuki said, laughing.

“Hey, the mountain is a rich and beautiful resource in our own backyard,” he protested.

“Oh, I forgot; you were the other weirdo, pine-tea drinking scout.” Mizuki looked mock solemn, palm over his chest. “On my honor, I promise I will do my best…”

“You remember the pledge better than I do,” Iruka lied.

Mizuki snorted. “I bet you still have your uniforms all pressed and hanging in your closet.”

Iruka felt a stab of irritation, but then Mizuki fished two apples from his bag and offered one to Iruka. “Always prepared. That’s some good life lesson,” he said around a mouthful of apple, and sauntered off towards his classroom.

Iruka sighed amidst the shrieking students and tolling school bells and prayed for a quiet day. From the way that Shizune, the school vice principal, was hurrying towards him with a manila folder, it was not to be.

“Umino-sensei,” she said, handing the folder over with a harried smile. “You’ve got a new student joining today, it seems just transferred here.”

“Wait,” Iruka said, but then the final warning bell rang overhead, and Shizune shot him a sympathetic grin.

“Sorry, Iruka, I didn’t find out myself until just now. He’s finishing up paperwork in the office, and I’ll send him over when he’s done.”

He sighed again and took the folder, giving her a wry salute before pushing into his classroom full of rowdy, boisterous nine-years-olds.

“Alright, settle down,” he called, dumping his bag onto his desk and setting the folder beside it. The board behind was already empty, so he began writing quickly the date, the homework assignments, and ‘new student!’ right in the center. He listened to the cheerful chatter behind him as everyone settled in their desks. By the time he’d finished writing the final line, they sounded more or less settled. “As you can see, we’re expecting a new student today,” he said, turning. They perked up noticeably. Hungry little monsters, he thought with some affection. “With that in mind, let’s be welcoming and helpful-”

The door cracked open and the classroom hushed in anticipation. Twenty pairs of beady little eyes swiveled to stare while Iruka mouthed “Be nice!” in vain.

A boy with a head of sun-yellow hair peeked inside, and then grinning, sidled all the way in. The rest of him was no less colorful. His uniform of choice was an eye-searing orange tracksuit more suited to traffic guards, and his eyes were a bright, inquisitive blue.

The class stared.

The boy stared back.

 Iruka cleared his throat. “Welcome to our classroom, uh,” he fumbled for the folder he hadn’t even had time to open.

“Naruto,” the boy said, and there was a distinct undercurrent of laughter in his words. Iruka jerked upright. It was his turn to stare as the boy—fox?!— _Naruto_ sauntered to the front of the classroom, arms folded behind his head. His grin was wide and sly and, well, vulpine. “The name’s Uzumaki Naruto. Nice ta meetcha, Iruka-sensei!”

Iruka dropped the folder.

 

Kids had a sort of pack sense, an instinct for the strong, the weak, and most sharply, the odd. Perhaps it was this sense that left the kids of class 9B both fixated on and wary of the newest addition. Iruka had directed Naruto on autopilot to the empty seat next to Sakura, who seemed uncertain if she now had the best or worst seat in the room. Naruto plopped down, folded his arms on the desk, and peered at her curiously, grinning when she snuck a sidelong look. He had no school supplies on him, not even a pencil (‘Because he’s a _fox,’_ Iruka’s mind thought hysterically), and when he was given one, held it oddly in his fingers.

Iruka did what Broadway actors and army soldiers did under crisis—he ruthlessly went on with the show because he was a goddamn professional. Though he was careful to avoid looking in Naruto’s direction, he could feel the fox boy’s unsettling blue eyes fixed on him throughout class.

The lunch hour rang, and Iruka nearly tossed his board marker out the window he was so relieved. “Naruto, can you please stay for a moment?” he asked calmly as the students piled out the door for their hour of freedom.

The newest student sprawled in his seat, grinning with doggish glee. Unbidden, Iruka felt his shock transform into the incredulous exasperation more familiar to him when dealing with troublesome kids. He latched eagerly onto that.

“Okay, kid, nice try, but I think you’ve taken this a little far. What’s your name, and where are your parents?” he folded his arms and gave him a stern look.

“Huh?” The kid had the gall to look confused. “I don’t have any parents, and you know who I am.”

Iruka felt his temper thinning. “Look, I don’t know how you trained up that poor animal, or what sort of weird electronics were involved, but this joke has gone on long enough. We are going to the office.”, and I’m going to have a stern talk with your caretaker.”

“Eh, Sensei,” Naruto said, scratching at the faint lines on his cheeks—Iruka had to give credit for commitment—and cocked his head. “I don’t get you. I told you, I gotta make your wish come true, so I gotta stick with you.”

“This is not funny,” Iruka snapped. “I’m-“

“Yo, Iruka, are you- oh,” Mizuki stuck his head in and blinked at the sight, then grinned a little gleefully. “Ah, discipline in action. I’ll come back later.” The door closed again.

Naruto rubbed his nose and frowned. “Who’s that guy? He smiles weird.”

“Enough,” Iruka said.

Naruto peered at him in the ensuing silence curiously. “Ohh,” he said after a beat. “You want to make sure I ain’t lying!”

“What? No- I mean, yes-”

“That’s easy,” he continued cheerfully. “Look!”

Before Iruka could stop him, Naruto grabbed the folder with his information and dumped it upside down. A scattering of dried leaves and twigs tumbled to the ground. Iruka stared.

“I made it all up,” Naruto said proudly. “Pretty cool, huh?”

“Forging identity papers is illegal,” Iruka uttered.

“Eh, those are human rules,” Naruto snorted. “I’m a _fox_.”

“Please don’t joke,” Iruka said faintly.

“But I’m not, Sensei,” Naruto said. “See?”

And with a burst of wind and a flash of light, he turned himself back into a small, fluffy woodland creature.

 

“No,” Iruka said. “No, no, no.”

“But sensei-!” The little brow fox, now boy-shaped again, dogged his heels as Iruka strode determinedly down the street. “You gotta help me be an awesome kitsune, just give me a chance!”

Iruka whirled around and Naruto skidded to a stop. “Alright. I wish you would go back where you came from.”

Naruto’s blue eyes flashed, and then his nose wrinkled. “It's gotta be a real wish, that comes from the heart.”

“I sincerely wish you would go back?” Iruka tried.

“It's okay, I got time,” Naruto said cheerfully, kicking up fallen leaves as he followed Iruka.  “Kitsune live a long time, and I got nothing else to do. “

“Won't your family worry?” Iruka frowned. He was no expert, but Naruto seemed too young to be on his own.

The boy jammed his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “Don't really have a family.”

“Then does anyone take care of you?” Iruka asked, appalled.

“I don't need anyone, I can take care of myself!” Naruto declared, and puffed his chest out in pride.

Iruka regarded him for a long moment. He still had no intention of asking for a wish to come true—and what would Iruka even wish for, with his ‘heart’? He had a home. A job. Food on the table. Friends. What else was there?

But.

Maybe the kid was a wild animal, but Naruto still looked like a ten-year old boy, just a kid who maybe had grown up entirely too fast and wild on his own. And Iruka was entirely too familiar with what that was like.

“You hungry?”

“Huh?”

Iruka cocked his head. “I’ll treat you to dinner.

Naruto’s face lit up. “Can we have _ramen_?” he whispered reverently, and Iruka burst into laughter despite everything.

“Alright, alright, ramen it is. Proper ramen, this time,” he said, and the boy crowed victoriously.

 

Naruto was loud, boisterous, and chewed through words a mile a minute. If Iruka hadn’t already been dealing with twenty-some brats as his day job, he probably would have run ten minutes in. He learned in broad sweeping details Naruto’s plan to earn his nine tails, his thoughts on toads, who in the class he planned to befriend… The old proprietor of Ichiraku seemed to like the little loudmouth in any case, helped along by the fervent sincerity in Naruto’s enthusiasm. And Iruka was glad to admit, seeing Naruto’s eyes nearly pop from their sockets as the big, steaming bowl of noodle soup was set down before him, was pretty gratifying. How often did the boy get a good meal? Iruka wondered. What did orphaned little spirit woodland creatures even eat?

“Teuchi-san,” Naruto said around a mouthful of noodles, “this is the best thing I’ve ever eaten in my life!”

“Ha ha ha,” the owner laughed. “Such flattery! How’d you learn to lie like that at your young age?” and he dropped another lump of noodles into Naruto’s bowl, free of charge.

“Ramen is the best,” Naruto insisted with the fervor of the newly converted. “Ichiraku should be a shrine.”

“Alright, buddy, let’s slow down,” Iruka said, amused despite himself. “No one’s going to take it away before you’re done.”

“Ha! Like they’d dare!” Naruto scoffed, but he straightened from his hunch.

Iruka propped his chin on his hand and watched the boy slurp the rest of the bowl. A meal had gone a long way to settling his own nerves about the whole… thing. But now that the shock was starting to wear off, other concerns were rising to the front of his mind.

Naruto was cheerful as Iruka paid the bill and ushered him out of the restaurant. “I haven’t eaten so much in _forever_ ,” he groaned happily, waddling a little. “Thanks, Iruka-sensei!”

“It was my pleasure, Naruto,” Iruka said. They were walking in the vague direction of his apartment now, and Naruto didn’t seem too fussed about where they were headed.

“Man, I bet I eat enough of that ramen, I’ll get a whole tail out of it,” Naruto said.

“How would that be a good deed?” Iruka asked, laughing.

“I’m keeping Teuchi-san in business!” Naruto insisted. “I’d be the best customer!”

“That’s a lot of ramen,” Iruka said. “Where are you headed? Let me walk you back to your, uh, home?”

“Ehh,” Naruto said. He glanced away and scratched his nose, suddenly evasive. “Thanks, sensei, but it’s no problem, it’s all the way out in the woods.”

“You sure?” Iruka frowned. Naruto shrugged, arms held tight against his sides, hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Yeah, I got a place ‘n all,” he said, squinting off towards the tree line. Iruka’s bullshit radar went off. He considered shaking the full truth out of him, but finally sighed; Naruto was no ordinary child, after all.

“Alright,” he said as they reached Iruka’s street. “Go home, and get some rest. And…” It was Iruka’s turn to look away into the distance and frown. “Naruto, if you truly want to join the class, then you’d better not be late tomorrow.” Even as the words came out, he had the feeling he was in over his head. The look on Naruto’s face was almost worth it though.

“Goodnight, sensei,” Naruto hollered as he bounded off towards the tree line, waving. Iruka waved back, sucking his teeth uncertainly before retreating inside the apartment.

 

By the end of the week, Naruto had made himself famous at school. New students were rare in such a small rural community as Konoha, so his classmates were already primed for drama.  The rest of the school caught on when he managed to lock Daisuke and his friends on the roof sans pants and doused in glitter. Iruka shouted at him at that, then at the three boys who’d started it by sticking gum in Naruto’s hair, then shouted at Genma, who was only on campus to pick up Sasuke Uchiha and had the misfortune to chuckle within hearing range.

“Chill, Umino,” Genma said good-naturedly. Shizune took the opportunity to swoop in and drag the bedazzled boys away to rinse off the glitter and change into their gym shorts. “Kids’ll be kids. Wish Sasuke would show a bit a life; that kid broods like it’s an Olympic sport.”

Iruka felt his head swelling with another wave of rage, but fortunately, Naruto made a run for it  and he found himself dragging the boy off to the principal’s office for another dressing down.

“Neh, sensei,” Naruto asked several hours later, when they were sitting at the Ichiraku counter and waiting for dinner, “What’d that guy mean about Sasuke? Izzat his dad?”

“Huh?” Iruka frowned absently. “Who, Genma? No, he’s Sasuke’s guardian. Sasuke’s parents died a few years ago, so Genma makes sure he’s taken care of.”

Naruto’s brows furrowed. “But what about his brother?”

“Well,” Iruka thought for a moment. “Itachi joined the military last year. His unit’s abroad right now, and he's not able to look after Sasuke by himself, so his friend Genma volunteered to step in while Itachi's unit's with the UN.”

“What’s that? They fighting a war, is that why he left Sasuke alone?” Naruto asked.

“I think,” Iruka said carefully, “That’s not something we need to know. Are you worried about Sasuke?” he added.

Naruto recoiled so dramatically he nearly toppled from his seat. “Whaaaaat? No way, Iruka sensei! He’s a bastard-”

“Language,” Iruka sighed.

“-a poop-head who thinks he’s so cool and stuff, but he doesn’t hang out with anyone else, and that’s kind of sad.”

Out of the mouths of babes, Iruka thought. “Sasuke’s been through a lot, just like you,” he said mildly as their dinners were set down in front of them. “Maybe you should try talking to him.”

Naruto snuck him a suspicious look and then rolled his shoulders back.

“Izzat your wish, sensei?” His eyes glinted in the artificial lighting, and Iruka was startled to find his nerves prickling uncertainly.

“What? Oh. Could it be?” Iruka said. But the look had subsided from Naruto’s eyes, and he was cracking his chopsticks apart with anticipation. “At the very least, he could use a friend,” Iruka added.

“Ugh, why me?” But Naruto sounded pleased to be charged with such a task, and dug into his dinner with glee.

 

The next day as the kids were choosing reading partners, Iruka watched with carefully concealed amusement as Naruto barreled past the other students and planted himself next to Sasuke with firm confidence, ignoring the outraged glares of Sasuke’s admirers.

“Hey, Sasuke,” Naruto said at his usual volume, i.e., loud. “I need a partner and Sakura-chan already has one-”

“Idiot!” Sakura hissed, bright red, from where she’d been lingering optimistically two desks down from Sasuke.

“- so, I guess I’ll settle for you,” Naruto finished. He grinned toothily.

Sasuke glared at him coolly as everyone else around them held their breath in suspense.

Iruka found himself observing them just as keenly, if more covertly, and with a great deal more amusement.

After a tense moment, Sasuke shrugged. “Whatever, dumbass. I’m not doing your work for you.”

“Oi!”

Before Naruto could pop in fury, Iruka raised his voice over all of them and directed their attention back to the front of the classroom.

 

A week on, and the temperature had dropped overnight. Iruka had noticed on his way back from the mayor's office the way the streetlights were reflecting a dull, almost purple glow to the sky, and he was not surprised at all to wake up the next morning and find fat, frosty flakes of snow drifting past his window.

“Morning, Iruka sensei!” Naruto hollered almost as soon as Iruka stepped outside his apartment.

“Hello, Naruto,” Iruka said, ruffling his hair absently. “You're always so early. You know you don’t need to walk me to school, right? We’ll be seeing each other soon enough.”

“Eh, my den’s pretty close by,” he waved with studied nonchalance.

Iruka raised an eyebrow. “Is it?”

“Besides, I gotta make sure you think about your wish,” Naruto said, trotting along beside him. “What if you think of something on the way to school, but forget it by the time you get to class?”

“Then it probably wasn’t a very good wish in the first place,” Iruka pointed out.

“What's not a good wish?”

Iruka stumbled at the sudden weight on his shoulders. “Mizuki!” Iruka shoved him off, grumbling. His friend and colleague laughed and just fell into step besides him.

“Iruka,” Mizuki mocked back. He grinned sharply at Naruto, who eyed him suspiciously. “You keeping secrets from me now? What is it, corrupting the youth?”

“Yes,” Iruka said. “That is exactly why we are talking about it as we stroll down main street and in broad daylight.”

“Because you’re such an innocent.” His friend rolled his eyes and shoved him playfully, but hard enough that Iruka stumbled. He caught himself in time.

“I’ll have you know I’m practically respectable these days,” Iruka said mildly.

Mizuki snorted. “Yeah, yeah, favored prodigal son. We all know how much the mayor dotes on you. Anyway-” His voice dropped to a whisper. “What’s up with this kid? I mean I know you love your students and all, but you need to tell this kid to back off, man.”

“He’s not bothering me,” Iruka said loyally, even if Naruto’s constant presence was a bit wearing. Mizuki rolled his eyes, which sparked some annoyance.

“Right, Iruka. Sure,” Mizuki drawled. “Where’d he go anyway?”

Sure enough, Naruto had disappeared from the sidewalk before them. Alarm flared briefly in Iruka’s heart, but then he heard Naruto’s laughter up ahead. He rushed ahead, Mizuki trailing behind him, probably more out of nosiness than any sense of urgency, and turned up the stone steps that led to the little shrine. Up on the smooth, mossy flagstones that paved the front of the temple, Naruto was cackling with glee and wrestling with the big, gray dog that guarded the temple. Gai was watching indulgently to the side, umbrella over his head to keep the snow off.

The relief that flooded Iruka startled him in its intensity. It was immediately replaced by despair. “Naruto, what are you doing? How are you going to get that mud off?”

“That’s so cute I want to barf,” Mizuki gagged. He slapped Iruka’s shoulder. “Right, well, not all of us needs to be late for work today, so see you later.”

“You’re a real pal,” Iruka muttered as Mizuki bounded back down the steps and to the sidewalk.

“Do not be alarmed,” Gai said happily. “The boy can’t harm him!”

Looking warily at the long muzzle, sharp flashes of canines, and muscled length of the gray dog, Iruka was honestly more concerned about it the other way around. “Can you call him off, in any case? I’ve got to get Naruto to school on time, and judging from the state of his shirt, we’re going to need to scrub him down before I can let him into my classroom,” he sighed.

“Ha! Yes, of course! Who am I to disrupt the joyful and earnest pursuit of education this fine morning!” He whistled, and the dog abruptly pulled back and perked up, its ears tipping towards them. Naruto lay on his back, panting and grinning. After a moment, the dog rose to its full height and shook itself out. It was much taller than Iruka had expected, rangy and long-legged, and it sent the pair of adults an unimpressed look, snorted into Naruto’s hair, and loped off back behind the temple. “My friend is not a sociable one,” Gai said apologetically.

“Dogs will be dogs,” Iruka said nonsensically, and hurried forward to drag Naruto off the ground and to school.

 

Sakura predictably looked appalled when her desk mate sat down next to her, still smelling faintly of wet dog and showing streaks of mud on his pants, despite Iruka’s frantic and best efforts with a handful of paper towels in the boy’s restroom.

“Ew, Naruto,” she hissed in a carrying whisper. “Don’t you ever take a bath?”

“Bath?” he echoed thoughtfully. “That’s pretty much like a swim at the lake, right?”

“That’s not a bath!” she protested, horrified.

“When it’s cold, sometimes the monkeys let me hang out with them in the hot springs,” he added.

“Are you making fun of me?!”

“Ahem,” Iruka said, and rapped on their desks. Sakura flushed a bright, embarrassed red while Naruto pouted and sunk into his seat. Other students around them snickered, but Iruka cut that off with a pointed look. “Settle down, everyone. We’ve got a lot to cover this morning. Before that, I’m going to go over the group projects and assign you to your three-person teams, so please have your notebooks out and ready to take notes. Yes, Shikamaru, that includes you; I don’t care how good of a memory you have…”

Outside, the falling snow grew whiter and fiercer.

 

By the time the lunch hour had passed, it was clear that the snow was starting to stick and pile up. Parents began stopping by the classroom to take their children home as early as noon. Iruka had luckily planned mostly independent group work in the afternoon, so he wandered around the classroom, solemnly listening and advising on each group’s project ideas. The kids seemed to enjoy the freedom to varying degrees—Ino, Chouji, and Shikamaru had grown up together, and their ease with each other showed. Iruka found them, or rather Ino, delegating tasks amongst the three of them, and left them mostly to their own devices. The next group needed a bit more guidance. Kiba was by far the most outgoing of his teammates, and had a tendency to run roughshod over his shyer and more taciturn teammates. Iruka sat with them for a while, coaxing suggestions from Hinata and Shino and helping Kiba formulate a plan that included all their input.

The last team, team 7 on his list, was a hard nut to crack though. Iruka half wondered if he was drunk when he decided that Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura would be good team. Most of the classroom had emptied out by the time Iruka sat down with them—Ino’s dad had collected her two group mates in one fell swoop—and it was with some alarm and resignation that Iruka found their collective notes had little to do with the task at hand, and mostly discarded in favor of bickering. Iruka dealt them all a stern reprimand, then patiently dragged them into some semblance of agreement and in putting together the bare bones of a project outline until Sakura’s dad showed up to take her home. She seemed reluctant to leave Sasuke alone to face Naruto, but Iruka had to admit Sasuke looked a little relieved. Genma came by shortly after, and then it was just Iruka and Naruto left.

“Let’s head out before we get stuck here,” Iruka said, peering out the window.

“Foxes never get stuck in snow,” Naruto declared smugly. “We are good jumpers and light on our feet.”

“Well, humans do, so I’d better scoot,” Iruka said. “Ready?”

They waved to the remaining school staff as they left. Iruka caught sight of Mizuki still in his classroom, bored and impatient, while his remaining two students drew rude images on the chalkboard. His eyebrows lifted in surprise then snapped into a frown as he spotted Iruka and Naruto heading out. Iruka hurried past the doorway before Mizuki could call him back.

Outside, the snow thickened the air in big, gusting flurries. There were few cars on the road now, most people in their small village probably already hunkered down at home until the worst of the storm was over. Iruka and Naruto didn’t talk much, but trudged companionably side by side. They stopped by the nearest convenience mart for Iruka to pick out some instant ramen and bottled water; Naruto’s eyes gleamed when he heard how easy it was to eat ramen at home. By the time they reached Iruka’s apartment, the sky was beginning to dim, despite the early hour.

“Will you be okay going home?” Iruka asked, squinting at the sky.

“Aw, don’t worry about me sensei!” Naruto insisted with a bright, toothy grin. Iruka looked at him doubtfully. “I got a really cool den, it’s totally safe and dry! I made it myself. Foxes make the best dens!”

“I know they do, but I’m worried about you heading there on your own.  Is it far?”

His supernaturally inclined young student shrugged with a shifty squint. “It’s pretty close,” he mumbled. Iruka gave him a long, measured look that made him squirm.

“Well, you aren’t an ordinary boy, or a fox,” he sighed after a moment, and smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Naruto. Get home safely.”

“See ya!”

Iruka watched as Naruto trotted off down the street, a bold, bright smudge of orange in the white -gray blur of snow and wind. The boy turned the corner, and Iruka went inside and flipped on the lights. He hung his coat and set his boots next to the radiator then shuffled into the kitchen to refill his hot water heater. As the water boiled, he pulled the pot of beef stew from the fridge and set it on the stove to warm. He started rice in the cooker, and then pulled out two bowls, two sets of chopsticks, and two empty cups, lining them up neatly on the kitchen counter while dinner warmed up. 

Then, Iruka opened the back door and cleared his throat loudly.

The scratchy rustling that was just audible over the muted roar of the storm stopped. The silence that followed was slightly nervous.

“You can come out,” Iruka said aloud. “I know you’re there.”

There was no reply for so long that Iruka began feeling a little foolish. But then, a sneeze sounded from somewhere, and he grinned lopsidedly.

“Come inside before you catch cold,” he said. “I’ve got dinner just about ready.”

“Is it ramen?” the little voice piped up.

“No, but it’s warm,” he replied, and after a few moments of scuffling and scratching, Naruto in fox form wriggled out from under the porch and streaked into the apartment. “There’s towels in the bathroom, and some clean clothes,” he added. “Go dry yourself off, then come out.”

The bathroom door slammed closed, and Iruka busied himself setting the table and portioning out rice into the bowls. Naruto appeared shortly, wearing Iruka’s old college shirt and a pair of soft cotton shorts, yellow hair still a bit damp. He grinned sheepishly at Iruka.

“How’d ya know?” he asked, plopping down at the table.

Iruka shook his head. “I’ve seen you sneaking out the garden gate for the past week,” he said dryly, and spooned a hearty portion of the stew over the rice. “You know, you don’t need to pretend.”

“Aw, sensei,” Naruto said, eagerly claiming his dinner. “I just wanted to stick closer in case you thought up your wish.”

“Well, if that’s the case, you may as well stay with me,” Iruka said offhandedly. “I’ve got a spare mattress you can take. Oh, be careful, Naruto!”

Naruto stared, wide eyed. Iruka tsked in dismay as hot beef stew dripped down from Naruto’s slack spoon and onto the table. “Really?”

“I think it’s better than the alternative,” Iruka said dryly.

“Uh, well,” the boy ducked his chin and scratched at his nose with a thumb. He sniffed and shrugged. “I mean, yeah, whatever.”

Iruka busied himself pouring water for the both of them. “Better eat before it gets cold,” he advised. “And if you’re going to be staying here, you better be prepared to help out with chores.”

“Aw, c’mon, Iruka sensei,” Naruto whined, but the grin that spread over his face was a blinding thing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fyi, yes, I've finished the whole thing, and I expect to edit/post a chapter a day, about 6 chapters in total.

“Okay, so, we’ll do a background first, and then present the timeline,” Sakura said, carefully writing out the notes on a piece of scratch paper. “Naruto, you can highlight the important events and dates, and Sa-Sasuke,” she blushed slightly, but soldiered on, “—and I can write the script.”

“Aw, I want to write the script too,” Naruto whined, slumped in his chair and chin propped on their stack of internet print outs. “Why can’t Sasuke do it? He’s boring. Highlighting is boring. They’re perfect for each other.”

“Naruto!” Sakura hissed, and elbowed him. She darted a look at Sasuke, as if expecting him to be angry, but he just snorted and looked away. Honestly, it was just a stupid class project, and he’d have been fine if they’d all just split the tasks and done each part independently. Instead, they were in the school’s computer lab wasting a perfectly nice Saturday afternoon. When he’d protested to Genma, his stupid guardian had laughed and told him Sasuke would have spent it sulking in his room anyhow, and he might as well do it in the company of friends. As if Sasuke would ever be friends with these two weirdos. Whatever.

There was a faint grumble from the other table, where Iruka-sensei was working at one of the computers. “Hey, you three, I’m going to step outside for a call,” he told them. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“Okay!” Naruto hollered, too loud. Sakura winced and glared at him, but Iruka just smiled. As soon as the door closed, Naruto whipped around, suddenly very awake, and grinned. Sasuke instantly had his hackles up and he met the other boy’s smile with a wary frown. “Okay,” Naruto said again, but this time in a very different tone of voice. “So, I heard that Principal Senju keeps the ‘good stuff’ in her office.”

Sasuke and Sakura blinked at him.

“What is the ‘good stuff’?” Sakura asked cautiously.

“Dunno. That’s what Mizuki-sensei calls it,” Naruto said. “I’ll bet it’s like, the best instant ramen.”

“Why would it be ramen?! It’s probably chocolate, the fancy kind you get for Christmas,” Sakura said like she was eager for gossip, but not with Naruto. She glanced at Sasuke sideways. “What do you think, Sasuke?”

He thought it was more likely very nice ink pens or whatever, but just shrugged. What did it matter?

 Naruto shifted in his seat and grinned. “Let’s go see what it is and get some while Iruka’s out.”

“No way!” Sakura cried, but Naruto shushed her quickly. She clapped her hands over her mouth, and the three of them darted glances at the door, which stayed shut. Just audible was the murmur of their sensei’s voice as he meandered up and down the hall. Sakura whirled back around and glared. “Naruto, stop joking around!”

“I’m not! I just think it’s unfair that the old lady keeps all the best stuff for herself. She should share the wealth, shouldn’t she? Sasuke, am I right?” His glittering blue eyes latched on to Sasuke.

“We’ve got work to do,” Sakura protested, gaze flickering between the two of them. “Right? Sasuke?”

On one hand, Sasuke didn’t care to go out of his way looking for trouble. He knew that Genma always had longer debriefings with Itachi after Sasuke finished talking with his brother on the phone, and that his behavior was certainly a ranking topic covered. The one time he’d stayed out past curfew after arguing with Genma had drawn Itachi back to Konoha, but only for a day. And while his brother hadn’t been upset with him, he had looked tired and somber as they sat under an old oak tree and talked. When they walked, Sasuke had kept up easily, since Itachi moved like an old man, ache and strain in every step. He had smiled and flicked his forehead and promised to be available to him always, and Sasuke had silently sworn never to be a burden to his brother.

That said, there was something uncanny and electric in the sly gleam of Naruto’s eyes.

Sasuke stared back hard. “…Okay,” he said, and Naruto’s punched the air in silent triumph. Their classmate looked appalled but also nervously excited, and Sasuke crossed his arms. At least this way, he might figure out what was going on with the new kid.

Sneaking past Iruka should have been the hardest part. This was the man who, it seemed, was born to wrangle unruly children; Genma had once joked that if Iruka ever held his temper long enough to ascend to Buddha-hood, he'd be a thousand eyed one for sure. Even if they left successfully, he might come back at any time and find them were missing. Sasuke wasn’t confident they would make it as far as the bathrooms, especially with this moron in the lead.

But miraculously, their escape was almost effortless.

Ignoring Sakura and Sasuke's pointed skepticism, Naruto eeled up to the door of the computer lab and peeked out. Then, he cracked open the door and gestured for them to follow. Sakura and Sasuke exchanged looks, and scampered after. Out in the echoingly quiet hall, Iruka-sensei’s warm voice was especially loud, though he was speaking quietly. He was facing the window towards the Konoha mountains and frowning absently as he walked someone through some bureaucratic procedure. Sasuke stiffened when it looked like he was about to turn around and spot them, but the Naruto flapped a hand in Iruka’s direction, and it somehow worked: Iruka turned away. Naruto grabbed their sleeves and dragged them down the corridor and around the corner.

“Alright!” Naruto hissed as they trotted down the hall. “That was awesome!”

Sakura looked thrilled and also like she wanted to throw up. Sasuke carefully moved to the other side of Naruto. He was shaking a little from the adrenaline too, though he clenched his trembling hands into a hard fist.

They scurried up the stairs to the second floor where Principal Senju’s offices were. The halls were deserted on this weekend afternoon, but all three by silent agreement, communicated via hand signals and exaggerated twitches of their eyebrows.

The office door was locked, as Sasuke expected.

“Now what?” Sakura whispered. “Should we go back?”

Naruto appeared to think hard, his brows drawing together over his strange blue eyes. “There’s a window we can get to,” he suggested, delight dawning on his face. “Yeah, that’s great! We’ll go to the roof, okay? And then you grab my ankles, and Sasuke can grab yours, and then I’ll dangle down over the edge until I can swing into the window and let you in! Awesome, let’s-”

“Oh my _God,_ ” Sasuke burst out, unable to hold it back any longer. He made grabby hands at Sakura. “Give me your hair pins,” he said. She handed the bobby pins over, too startled to question it. With those in hand, he brushed past them and knelt over the door handle.

“Hey, what are you—ohhhhhh,” Naruto said. “Okay, that’s sneaky.” This was said with marked admiration.

“Idiot,” Sasuke growled under his breath, concentrating as he carefully twisted the pins into shape.

“I heard that-ow!”

“Be quiet,” Sakura ordered, and Naruto subsided, grumbling. Sasuke could feel their keen attention on him as he slid the bent pin into the lock, crooked the handle, then gently inserted the flattened second pin. For a few tense minutes, there was no sound except for the dull rattle of the door knob and, fainter, the sounds of the pins clicking into place.

With a final click, Sasuke twisted the door handle, and swung it open.

“Al _right_!” Naruto said, punching the air in victory.

“That was so cool,” Sakura told him, though her smile twisted into a small frown as he dropped the mangled bobby pins in her palm.

“…Sorry,” he said.

“N-no, it’s fine,” she replied half-heartedly as they trouped inside. Sasuke refused to feel bad—he didn’t see what was so special about the pins anyways, except that they were a sickly pink instead of the usual black, and had some gaudy flowery pattern printed along the straight leg.

“Aw, wait, let me see,” Naruto said and plucked the pins from her hand before she could protest. He stared at them, twisted the ends a bit.

“It’s fine, I’ve got more at home,” Sakura said quickly, her eyes darting to Sasuke for some reason.

Naruto grinned. Sasuke felt a strange electric prickle down his spine and he tensed at—something. The afternoon light, coming in pale and yellow cast an almost golden shadow over Naruto’s eyes, a strange liquid trick of the light that disappeared as he brandished the two pins, having somehow wrestled them back to their original state. Sakura’s eyes widened; Sasuke felt his own narrow.

“Thanks, Naruto,” Sakura said, hesitantly pleased. She turned them over, staring at the two pink pins that didn’t have a single scratch despite their hard use, before slipping them back into her hair. Naruto beamed.

 “Looks cute, Sakura-chan,” he declared, and instead of grimacing, she grinned and elbowed him companionably.

“C'mon, let’s go see what Principal Senju has in her office,” she suggested, and they hurried ahead. Sasuke frowned and followed. He wasn’t the least bit irritated that they seemed to have forgotten him for a moment.

The office was a small bullpen for administrative assistants and teachers, with a couple corner offices for the principal and vice principal. Principal Senju's office was closed, but unlocked. Inside, the space was dominated by a massive desk that was covered with messy piles of folders and a clunky old computer monitor. The shades were drawn, but bright afternoon sunlight slanted in through the gaps between the frame in narrow sheets that striped the room. Had Sasuke been a more fanciful child, he would have thought it atmospheric. As it were, he was more focused on the mission. Th three of them milled around the office, tugging at the drawers and peering under the stacks of paperwork.

“Oh! Here’s something!” Sakura whispered, tugging hard on the stuck bottom drawer of the desk. With a hard yank, the drawer slid out with a rusty grumble, and they peered in eagerly.

“Aw, man” Naruto said as Sasuke gingerly held up a bottle of rum that was very nearly gone. “No wonder the old lady smells weird all the time. “

“I don't know if that’s healthy,” Sakura said, eyeing the bottles of sake and tequila that rolled around the bottom of the drawer, all at various levels of full.

Sasuke huffed and dropped the rum back into the drawer. “Let's get out of here before sensei realizes we're gone,” he said, turning towards the door.

“Waitwaitwait,” Naruto said, and lifted the bottles back out of the drawer gleefully. “Let's hide these first!”

 

They each took a bottle to hide, and then Naruto peered into the empty bottom drawer, dropped a few twigs into it, and slammed it shut. He looked up at his classmates triumphantly, and even Sasuke felt a grin tug at his mouth. But that was when the main office door opened, and the lights over the bullpen snapped on.

“Hide!” Sakura hissed, and yanked the two of them down onto the ground. They scuffled silently on the floor of Principal Senju’s office.

“—pick up something in the office, it won’t take long,” someone said, voice coming closer. Sasuke felt Naruto's shoulder, dug into his forearm, tense nervously. He himself felt like livewire, strung with adrenaline.

The footsteps grew louder… and then continued past the door they hid behind. Besides him, Sakura let out a long, shaky breath. Naruto popped up and peered out the window into the bullpen.

“it’s Shizune,” he declared before Sakura and Sasuke tugged him back down.

“Shh!”

“Don’t be an idiot!”

They froze in taut silence, hanging onto each scrape, each shift from outside. Sasuke refused to think what Itachi would say if he heard about this. Probably something that implied shame heavily. Like, “how can I make this better? Sasuke, let me know how I can _help._ ”

The footsteps trailed off, and the lights blinked off.

Sakura's knee dug into his side as she pushed up to peek out the window. “All clear,” she said, and the three of them melted with relief.

One by one, with exaggerated care, they tiptoed from the office and pushed open the front office door. Outside, Shizune's voice was still faintly audible, echoing from around the corner where the bathrooms were.

“Okay, while she’s in there, we sneak downstairs. I’ll go first.”

“Okay,” Sakura said.

“Whatever,” Sasuke said.

“Oink?” the small black pig said.

The three of them stared at the pig, who cocked its head at them from where it stood in the hall. Its snout quivered.

“What the heck is that?” Sasuke whisper-shouted, eyeing the small creature with wary panic.

“That’s Tonton, Shizune’s pet, oh _no_ ,” Sakura fretted.

 

“Tonton!” Shizune called, and the pig's ears perked, though it never stopped staring at them suspiciously. “Tonton, where are you?”

Sasuke glanced around at his companions’ white faces, and thought about the disappointment that Itachi would certainly feel. He steeled himself to step forward.

Naruto caught his shoulder. “I got this,” he said, and flashed a bright, quicksilver grin that sent alarm bells clamoring in Sasuke’s head.

“Wait, Naruto—!” Sakura yelped, but it was too late. With a whoosh of displaced air, Naruto shot past them and began pounding—loudly—down the corridor, nearly bowling over the little pig. Tonton spluttered and squealed and rocketed after the boy, leaving Sasuke and Sakura open-mouthed and clutching at empty air.

“What on earth…?” Shizune emerged from the corner, looking bewildered, and taking off at a trot down the corridor. Sasuke pulled Sakura back and against the walls of the office as she passed by and out of sight.

 “What do we do now?” Sakura whispered.

Sasuke grit his teeth. They should sneak back down stairs, while Shizune was distracted and come up with an excuse for being away from the library—for sensei had surely noticed their absence by now.

“Go back downstairs,” Sasuke said instead. “Tell sensei that we… went to the bathroom. I’m going after that idiot.”

“Don’t go!” Sakura shrieked, and he gave her an impatient glare.

“Just do it!” he nudged her towards the stairs and ran off the opposite direction after the idiot, the pig, and Shizune.

Heart pounding with nerves and adrenaline, Sasuke stuck close to the walls and strained his ears to hear any signs of shouting or piggish outrage. He nearly walked into Shizune that way, who wandered past, calling out for Tonton. As soon as she’d gone, he ducked down the opposite direction.

“Naruto,” he hissed as loudly as he dared as he headed towards the music room hall. “Hey, idiot!”

There was no answer, but very faintly, there was the sound of little trotters clicking determinedly down the linoleum, and Sasuke bolted after the sound.

The corridor ended with a small balcony bound by red-painted railings and looked over the first floor. Naruto was backed against the rail by the determined pig, and Sasuke stepped forward, prepared to shout and act as a distraction.

But Naruto didn’t look at all nervous; he was still smiling that wide, edged grin that flashed his incisors. Before Sasuke could say a word, Naruto laughed at Tonton and winked a gold-filmed eye. And then, there was no more loud-mouthed neon-orange moron taunting the vice principal’s pet, but a russet-furred, blue-eyed fox, its wide vulpine grin showing off gleaming, sharp teeth.

For one, hung moment, no one moved—no one even _breathed._

And then Tonton squealed in terror and backpedaled hard, streaking past Sasuke without paying him a lick of attention.

Sasuke stepped back, tripped, and fell to the ground with a thump. The fox looked up from where he’d been hacking odd, barking sounds—laughter?— and caught his eyes.

“Oops,” the fox said in Naruto’s voice, and looked a little shamefaced. Within another blink of an eye, he was a full-sized boy again, grin sheepish now.

“What the hell,” said Sasuke.

“Tonton! What’s wrong?” Shizune’s voice echoed, and the two boys whipped around in a panic.

“C’mon, let’s get back downstairs!”

 

They made it back to the library; Iruka-sensei was absent from the corridors, which made Sasuke draw in a deep breath before pushing open the door and stepping inside. To his annoyance, Naruto didn’t seem to feel any of the same nerves. He bounded in behind like a cheerful idiot and waved at Sakura and Iruka. Sakura looked about to melt into a puddle of relieved pink goo.

“Hey guys, feeling better?” their sensei asked with a smile.

“…Yes?” Sasuke replied.

“Glad to hear it. Sakura said she thought it might have been something you ate. As someone who has had Genma’s cooking, I understand your pain,” Iruka chuckled.

“Yes,” Sasuke repeated.

“You shoulda seen it, Iruka sensei,” Naruto crowed. “Sasuke puked like crazy. Like a fountain! There was green, there was purple—”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Iruka said, and motioned them over. “I was just reviewing your plans with Sakura, if you want to join in…”

 

“Hey, kiddo, your brother’s on the phone!”

Sasuke pattered down the stairs from his room and joined Genma in the kitchen. His guardian waggled the cordless phone at him as he continued stirring something that smelled vaguely noxious.

“Hello?”

“Sasuke,” Itachi greeted. Some people thought his brother was difficult to read, all smooth features and stoic expressions, but Sasuke could hear the undercurrent of warmth in his brother’s tone, even distorted through the phone.

“Aniki, how are you?” he said.

“Very well, thank you. We are on an island for training, and the view is quite nice,” Itachi replied. “But I’ll be glad to be back in Japan after this.” He sounded tired. “How are you? How is school?”

“I received top marks in my math and language tests last week,” Sasuke said.

Itachi huffed in amusement, the breath staticky in Sasuke’s ear. “That’s all well and good, but I asked about how you were doing.”

Sasuke scowled, then catching Genma’s studied, non-curious face, turned to face the opposite wall. “M’fine,” he muttered. He missed his brother, and wished Itachi hadn’t decided to join military and run off to weird islands for weird training.

“Ah,” Itachi said softly, as if catching the directions of his thoughts. “I miss you very much too, and I promise to come back for a visit soon.”

Sasuke squirmed, torn between pleased and ashamed for being pleased. “I’m okay, Aniki. Really,” he insisted, and even tried to inject some light-heartedness into his words. “I- I have a group project that I’m working on.”

“Oh? With your friends?” Itachi asked.

Sasuke opened his mouth for an automatic denial, but then paused, thinking about how Sakura had thrown commiserating looks at him throughout the day, as if reading his mind, and distracting Naruto whenever the other boy was too overwhelming. He thought about Naruto’s infectious grins and the wink he’d tossed at him as they’d left for home, Naruto following Iruka, his shadows stretching long and pointed on the cold, snow-covered sidewalk.

“…Yeah, I guess,” Sasuke said. “They’re okay.”

 

(“What the fuck is this?!” Principal Senju shouted as she stared into the depths of her storied bottom desk drawer. The sake bottle she’d tried to pick up had exploded into a mess of dried twigs and leaves, that now littered her desk and drawer. “Fucking woodland magic _bullshit_. Shizune!!”)


	3. Chapter 3

“Oh, Iruka,” the mayor said one afternoon, popping his head out of his office. He beckoned, and Iruka nodded at Izumo to take over.

“Yes, sir?” Iruka said, closing the office door behind him. Sarutobi settled back into his chair and waved at him to fetch a clean tea cup from the shelf. 

“So,” the old man said as they settled down with their tea. “I hear you’ve taken a new student under your wing.”

“In a way, I suppose,” Iruka said slowly. He didn't know how to explain how not exactly a real student Naruto was.

“‘In a way?’” The mayor's eyebrows rose. “You’ve not only taken him into your classroom, but also feed him, and according to the latest gossip, house him. This isn’t enough?”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Iruka laughed, a bit nervously. “He was… living alone, and to the best of my knowledge, his guardian has been…” _nonexistent?_ “…absent. Works in uh, the city. That sort of thing.”

Sarutobi nodded and smiled.  “You’ve always had a big heart.”

Iruka blushed and grinned. “So I’m not in trouble?” he asked cheekily.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be too quick, my boy,” he replied. He handed over a thin stack of papers. “As you might imagine, I am certainly not the only one to have noticed your new tagalong.”

Iruka took the papers and glanced at them, then stared, flabbergasted. “…I… sir? This- this is paperwork to certify as a foster parent. That can’t be right.”

“Why not?” Sarutobi asked lightly. “You are a responsible adult, with a stable job, and you have a good understanding of what children, especially those with unorthodox home situations, need best. There are benefits to having official status here, especially if you intend for young Naruto to continue staying with you.”

“I, that is,” Iruka paused. How to put in words, exactly, that formal status didn’t really mean much when the child in question regularly sprouted fur and a tail, and was decidedly more forest spirit than strictly human? “Naruto's situation is a little… odd,” he finally said. “I’m… I don’t know if this is exactly the right, uh, direction to go with him.”

Sarutobi blinked slowly, a crooked smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Well, I think it is something to give serious consideration. And whether or not this works out with Naruto, I’m glad to see you not alone.”

Iruka laughed, startled. “Oh, well, I’m not _alone_ …”

“Let an old man fuss and worry,” Sarutobi said, sitting back in his chair, regarding Iruka with a fond glint in his eyes. “When was the last time you brought someone back for us to meet? Or even had friends over? You rarely come by the house anymore, and you spend so much of your time working here or there, I’m shocked you haven’t collapsed from fatigue yet.”

“I’m fine, really!” Iruka insisted, purposefully ignoring the first half of that sentence. “And I was planning to stop by this weekend, I swear.”

“Oh, good, good. I think Asuma and Kurenai are bringing the baby over as well, so you might as well bring the boy too,” Sarutobi said, with satisfaction.

Iruka winced, but nodded meekly.

The mayor contemplated him silently for a few moments, eyeing him from beneath heavy brow bones. When Iruka had been twelve, and being hauled into the principal’s office for stringing the school halls with enough yarn to defrock a herd of neon-green sheep, that stare had made his insides quail. The first time he’d faced it, Iruka had ended up half adopted into the Sarutobi family. Now though, the old man just sighed.

“You are family to us in all but name, Iruka,” he told him gravely. “We worry about you being alone so much.”

…and sometimes, he dropped bombs like that, Iruka thought faintly.

“Sir,” he said, and then sat, blinking rapidly like a fool.

Thankfully, Sarutobi didn't seem to expect a real response; he looked at Iruka fondly and smiled. “Well, go on back to work. Tea time is over. I'll see you this weekend. “

Iruka returned to his post, so flustered that he'd sat back into his seat before realizing he was still holding onto the mayor's tea cup.

 

“You're joking,” Mizuki said, eyes lighting up with mocking glee. “Wait, no, you’re serious? You, a dad?” he guffawed rudely and slapped the table, rattling their drinks.

Anko cut him a glare, even though in any other circumstances, Iruka would have heard the same thing from her. She despised Mizuki though, and refused to agree with him on principle. “I think it’s sweet,” she declared, making Kotetsu snort into his beer. “Besides, you’d totally rock the whole DILF vibe,” she added with a leer.

Iruka pointed at her. “There’s the Anko we all know and love.”

“Man, what do you put in the tea of that crazy old coot?” Mizuki marveled. “Does he believe you when you say you walk on water?”

“First of all,” Iruka said with some irritation, “He definitely knows I don’t walk on water—he’s thrown me into the deep end of the pool himself. Second of all, no more for you.” He batted the half empty pint away, but Mizuki pushed him off and drained the rest in one go.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Mizuki said with a grin that just verged on savage.

“Alright, alright,” Iruka said, and sat back. Anko rolled her eyes, not bothering to be subtle, while good ol’ Izumo and Kotetsu jumped in to fill the abrupt silence about some hilarious complaint call they’d received about the billboard along the main highway. Iruka laughed at the right parts and Anko teased Izumo mercilessly for the easy way he blushed at the recounting, but the longer they stayed, the darker Mizuki's mood seemed to grow. After another few minutes, Iruka made a show of checking his phone and feigning surprise at how late the hour had grown.

“Now that you’ve got a kid, huh?” Mizuki said, and there was both sympathy and derision in his words. He’d always been more gracious when he thought he’d won some obscure social point. Asshole, Iruka thought fondly.

“Naruto's Genma's problem for a bit longer actually, I just need to throw some food on the table before he gets back,” Iruka admitted.

“Such a good daddy,” Anko purred, and Iruka flipped her off genially as he left.

Outside the streetlights already shone yellow-white against the snow and the chill air chased the lingering alcohol from his system. One of the stray dogs that napped near the warm doorways of the storefronts pricked its silver ear at him, but didn't bother to stir from its position.  It was still early enough that shops were only just closing up, and he managed to slip into a grocers and pick up some fruits and vegetables before the shopkeeper chased him back out good naturedly.

The walk from the bar back to his apartment was short, but was colder and darker. He’d made the walk hundreds of times, but Iruka still felt moments of unease, especially as he crossed the footbridge over a frozen stream and turned down the quieter streets that led right up to the mountain. The trees along his path were thick and dark and close together, so much so that the snow was thinner on the ground, and shadows patched the sidewalk and swallowed most noises. Iruka had grown up tramping through these woods with his parents and later, his classmates. He’d never felt the least bit nervous around them. But there seemed to be more and more that he didn’t know about this particular piece of wild; after all, this forest had birthed Naruto. And if they had, wasn’t it possible there was more where he’d come from?

Iruka shivered as the wind rustled through the tree branches. If he were more fanciful, he would have sworn there was a something following him from the tree line, pacing him just where the sidewalk gave way to dirt and pines. Fortunately, he tended, by nature of his work with young excitables, to exact a more practical mindset when forced. He continued home, crossing the street to walk on the opposite, house-lined side, willfully oblivious to anything but the route home and the comforting brain twister of how to feed a young fox spirit his vegetables.

He entered the apartment in a rush of cold air and promptly tripped over Naruto's slippers that lay haphazardly in the entry way.

“Naruto, I swear,” he grumbled, crawling forward in the dark and feeling about for oranges that had scattered from his grocery bag. He rounded up two, then reached further, groping about for the last one.

His hand fell on something large, and hairy, and warm.

Iruka frowned and lifted his head.

Rising above him in the dark was a massive, shaggy shadow creature, four legged, with sharp, wolfish ears, a long muzzle and long, pointed canines that glinted in the dark when it pulled its lips back.

Iruka screamed, but his voice strangled in his throat when the creature struck and bowled Iruka flat on his back, knocking the air from his lungs and crushing his chest with a heavy paw. There was a loud, constant rumbling that thrummed in the air and ground, and Iruka noted distantly that the animal was growling. This struck him as so ominous that he nearly missed its words.

“Be quiet,” the creature snarled, which was how Iruka realized he was babbling out loud. Iruka, with great force of will, shut up. The big, slavering creature didn’t seem impressed. “Don't.  Scream,” it said slowly, its voice distorted, almost polyphonal. Iruka nodded for lack of better options and the beast withdrew its paw. For a few tense moments, Iruka lay frozen on the ground, thinking about death and blood on the carpet and Naruto finding his dismembered body strewn over the floor.

The creature twitched and snorted irritably. Iruka squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the killing blow.

“Where is the fox child?”

Iruka's eyes snapped open.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he shot back, heart thundering away suddenly for a very different reason.

“You dare lie to me?” its breath washed over him, not rank, but wild and feral—blood, ozone, hot bone. It mingled with the scent that rose from its thick fur, a thick and sharp mix of cold stone and musk and the aftertaste of lightning.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Iruka repeated as firmly as he was able, which wasn’t very.  His response was rather garbled with nerves to be honest, but damned if he would give up someone under his protection to some murderous forest spirit; Iruka Umino was many things, but he definitely was no snitch.

The beast snarled, its face unspeakably monstrous this close. Fear pooled so thick in his throat it made Iruka gag and gasp.

“I would tear your entrails from its soft meat, human-who-lies. I have done worse for less offense. I smell the fox child presence here, I know you have taken him. You will tell me where he is, or die between my teeth. “

The teeth in question were as long as Iruka's palms, and very, very pointy. Iruka swallowed and clenched his jaw against their fearful chattering.

“Try me,” he grit out, and quailed under the sudden oppressive chill that sunk straight down until his bones. Sweat broke out in his forehead and palms, sour and cold.

“You don't know what he is, and yet you protect him? A monster?” the beast trembled in fury and barely leashed violence. “He will bring ruin to this town and destroy all you hold dear, and you protect him?”

“Wh-wh-” It was increasingly difficult too get the words out, but Iruka clung to his remaining shred of indignation, mired under terror and panic and drew it in with each breath. “What sort of sick teacher would I be if I couldn't protect my students?” he wheezed. “Go ahead and kill me, I’m not telling you anything.”

“You….” The creature growled, its muzzle drawn back in a terrible rictus of rage.  “ _You_ ….”

Iruka squeezed his eyes shut.

“You… pass.”

What?

The pressure was gone so suddenly his ears popped.

There was suddenly a scrabbling of footsteps and keys in the lock, and before Iruka could shout out a warning, Naruto came tumbling into the apartment.

“Iruka-sensei, I'm back-– why are you in the dark?” Naruto snapped the lights on and stared down at Iruka, puzzled.

“Na- Naruto, go, it’s not safe, “ Iruka gasping, pushing himself upright, but Naruto just cocked his head and looked past him. He frowned.

“Kakashi, what are you doing here?”

 _Ka-who_? Iruka clambered to his feet, still shaking with adrenaline and stared.

Sprawling calmly over the couch was a big, silver gray dog. It was nowhere near the size of a pony, and in fact looked familiar. Iruka had seen it hanging out with Gai often enough at the temple. It might even be the same one outside the grocers earlier that night. The dog licked its paws calmly and blinked back at him with one, dark eye. The other was red and bisected by a nasty old scar.

Naruto didn't seem put out either way.  He shrugged and then launched himself at the big dog, who whuffed in surprise and adopted a longsuffering stare.

Pointing at it with as steady a finger as he could manage, Iruka demanded, “What is that?” and then after a pause, added more firmly, “NO animals on the couch. “

Naruto was pushing and pulling at the soft skin and fur around the dog's muzzle, distorting its face like it was Playdoh. The dog couldn't look less frightening If he’d been covered in pink bows and kittens. “’s okay, this’s Kakashi.”

The beginnings of a headache been pounding at Iruka's temple. “And who is Kakashi?”

Naruto looked up and wrinkled his nose. “He’s the dog that hangs out at the temple with the weird guy.”

“Gai?” Iruka suggested faintly.

“That’s what I said,” Naruto said, and shrugged. “Also kinda checks on me sometimes, sort of.”

“So, he’s not going to kill you? Or me?”

“Huh? No way! What the heck’re you telling Iruka sensei?” This last part was aimed at Kakashi who blinked at him slowly. Naruto scowled and shoved at the dog—wolf—spiritual entity, but not very hard. Iruka took a moment to complete some yoga breaths while counting down from ten in his head.

“Your guardian or not, he’s not allowed on the furniture,” Iruka said. “And if he wants to stay for dinner, he’ll have to stick with rice; I didn’t realize we’d be having guests tonight.”

The dog looked politely abashed and slithered off the couch to the floor, but also made no move to leave. Naruto cheered and hopped up.

“Can we have ramen, Iruka? I think Kakashi would like ramen for dinner,” he wheedled. Iruka managed a faint grin and caught a firm hold of his shoulder.

“You can’t eat ramen every day. Let’s try some chicken and potato stew today instead? I’ll need your help peeling vegetables.” And also as guarantee your erstwhile guardian won’t eat me while I’m alone, he added silently, feeling the dog’s heavy gaze on his back.

 

Kakashi sat with them through dinner, seemingly unconcerned by the wary eye that Iruka kept on him, as well as Naruto’s efforts to feed him by hand. He ate his portion of rice and stew politely then lay at their feet under the table as Iruka tried to cajole Naruto into eating another carrot.

Then, it was bath time.  In a bid for freedom, Naruto changed into fox form and bolted for the door while Iruka shouted and chased him.

Very calmly, and very swiftly, Kakashi crossed the room in a bound, snatched Naruto up by the scruff and gave him a gentle shake before trotting over and depositing him neatly under the showerhead. He gave Iruka a lolling, doggy grin, but Iruka firmly ignored him and came at the kit, boy shaped once more, with a handful of shampoo.

The dog stayed through bedtime rituals and putting Naruto to bed.

“D'you got a wish yet, Iruka?” Naruto yawned, already slipping into dreams.

“Don’t worry about that, go to bed,” Iruka hushed.

Then as Iruka straightened up the apartment, Kakashi sprawled at the foot of the couch, napping. And finally, as Iruka sat down, exhausted and tense, with a cup of hot, soothing tea, the dog loped over and sat back on its haunches across from him.

“We should talk,” said Kakashi.

 

This was never covered in his educator training. Iruka decided to treat it like a parent-teacher conference for his own peace of mind.

“So,” Iruka said after a moment. “What’s Naruto like at uh, in the… wild?”

Kakashi lifted one furry eyebrow briefly. In this light, facing him straight on, Iruka could see the bare welt of scar tissue that crossed his left eye, stark against his silver gray fur.

“Sensei,” he said, sounding almost amused, “Naruto is not a human child.”

Iruka bristled. “I know that, I’m reasonably observant,” he replied a bit testily, then swallowed a meep when Kakashi rose fluidly to all fours. His mismatched, red and black eyes pinned Iruka to his seat.

“Do you?” the dog rumbled, his voice taking on an echo of that resonant thrum as he spoke. “His dam was a nine-tailed kitsune from the sacred springs beyond the mountain, who tormented the foulest of men and provided succor for the hopeless of this village. His sire was king of Konoha Mountain, he was the glow of light from within the trees, the wind that frosted the stones bare of moss. Under his protection your small human lives have flourished, yet you humans have long forgotten his existence. It was because of them that the landslide twenty years before did not bury your entire village in oblivion.”

“…that’s quite impressive,” Iruka managed after an expectant pause. His blood drained from his face, because he knew of that disaster, an avalanche of boulders and mud that tore free from the rain-drenched hillside and swallowed the main road into Konoha. The road where his parents had been driving on their way back from work in the next town over. Everyone had said how lucky Konoha had been, that the landslide had not rampaged through town square. Something must have diverted the worst of the disaster. Iruka hadn’t believed them; his parents were gone, had been found belted into their car seats nearly a quarter mile from the road, drowned in mud. At the time, he’d only wished the landslide had buried him too.

Kakashi sat back down with the satisfaction of having made his point. Iruka blinked away the old cobweb of pain and grief and felt irritation rise under his skin. He cleared his throat and clasped his hands in his lap. “But Naruto is neither of them,” he said reprovingly. “And besides, I didn’t ask about his parents.”

The dog blinked at him, and then, somewhat alarmingly, broke into a wide, doggy grin that flashed all of his sharp, gleaming teeth. “An excellent point, Sensei,” he said. “Still, you are human. Naruto has offered you something, hasn't he?”

“Do you mean a wish?”

Kakashi dipped his great shaggy head. “Ah.”

“I haven’t made him grant anything,” Iruka said hastily. “I wouldn't.”

“Why not?” he asked mildly.

“Well, it's…” Iruka paused. “It's not very… ethical, is it?”

“A deed in return for a deed, sensei. You don't consider that reasonable exchange?”

“It just doesn't seem like a fair trade; he's offering too much,” Iruka said, scratching at the old scar across his nose. “This isn't an eye for an eye, it feels like for the whole head. “

“You are a good man,” Kakashi said. “In exchange, I’ll share this advice. Naruto is not human. We don’t follow human morality; the exchange rate we use is not what your kind understand. What you do now, stalling your wish, is not a favor to anyone, Sensei. You are holding him hostage.” He said this not unkindly, but Iruka felt his words like a punch to the gut nevertheless.  “Make the wish, and let him return to the forest.”

There seemed little that could be said after that. After a few more minutes, Kakashi rose to his feet and padded over to the back door, waiting patiently until Iruka caught on and let him out into the yard, where he promptly disappeared into the shadows.

 

“—ruka. Iruka-sensei!”

Iruka glanced up, startled. Naruto was peering at him oddly, waving.

“Oh,” he said and looked around. Sasuke was already a distant figure walking alongside the thin lanky figure of Genma out past the main school gates towards their car.

“Can we get Ichiraku now?” Naruto said with exaggerated patience. Iruka squinted at him for any signs of unhappiness or coercion, then shrugged.

“Why not?”

While Naruto crowed and did a wiggly dance of excitement, Iruka gathered his things, still lingering on his thoughts.

They made good time to the ramen stand, the sidewalks clear of snow again after temperatures had bobbed back up. Naruto held forth dramatically on the events of their music class earlier that day, with enthusiastic if inexact approximations of Beethoven's 9th symphony. Iruka smiled and laughed at all the right parts, but halfway to the restaurant, he noticed that the big gray temple dog had begun trailing them. After their talk the previous weekend, Kakashi had all but given up subtlety. The dog followed at a polite distance, ignoring the amused looks other pedestrian gave him, and plopped down around the corner of Ichiraku’s stall, just out of the way. From where Iruka sat, he could see the silver gray muzzle poking out from behind the wall.

Naruto didn’t seem to notice; he dug into his dinner with as much gusto as he had the first time. Iruka picked at his own food and waved off Teuchi's raised eyebrows and concerned look.

As the waitress refilled their teacups, Naruto paused and looked at Iruka with some concern.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m just fine and dandy,” Iruka replied brightly. Inside, he wondered what kind of person he had become, who said fine and dandy aloud.

Naruto didn’t look convinced; instead, he screwed up his face and sat up from his slouch. “It’s okay, sensei,” he said firmly. “You can tell me what’s wrong. I’m a fox y'know. We’re famous for being smart.”

Iruka ruffled his blond head and grinned as he twisted and protested. “You’re too young to be giving me advice, kid,” he laughed.

Naruto pouted. “Why not? M’older than you.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. Years and years,” he said, lofty but matter of fact. “I’m like fifty, almost.”

Iruka sputtered pork broth all over himself. “You're _fifty?”_

“If I was human, I could be your dad,” Naruto said gleefully. “Oh, hey Kakashi.” The dog had paced up inside the stall and was leaning heavily against his legs. He gave Naruto a pointed look and the boy blew out his breath gustily. “But I’m just a kid, in fox years,” he added grudgingly, rolling his eyes.

“Right, okay,” Iruka said, patting at himself with napkins.

“My mom was like, a thousand,” Naruto boasted. “She had nine tails and all. When I was really little, she'd carry me around in her tails like a basket.”

“You must miss your parents a lot,” he said, and Naruto shrugged.

“Yeah, but I was really young y'know. I don't remember them a whole lot.” He scratched at his cheeks and squinted at nothing in particular. Iruka stared at him, then at the wood pattern on the countertop.

“I was pretty young when my parents died too, though not as young as you were.  I can't really remember what their voices sounded like anymore, but that doesn't mean I miss them any less,” Iruka said.

“But you got friends and stuff,” Naruto pointed out. “That old geezer-”

“Don’t refer to the mayor as ‘geezer,’” Iruka sighed.

“-and Gai and Ko-Izu-”

“Those’re _two_ people.”

“-and Anko-nee and even Mizuki-sensei,” Naruto beamed at him. “That’s pretty cool. That’s a whole family; I’ll bet you were _never_ alone, even without your mom and dad.”

Iruka looked at his bright grin, his chest aching and tight with something too complicated to name. What Naruto said was a laughably egregious oversimplification. But Iruka supposed the past was the past; it mattered that it was true _now_. Iruka wasn’t alone anymore. Even more so, these days.

“… and now I have you,” Iruka said, in lieu of everything else stuck in his throat.

Naruto lit up like a light bulb, and then ducked his face, grinning helplessly. Iruka felt a swell of pure affection for the boy and patted his shoulder.

“Ehehe,” Naruto laughed, pink with pleasure. “That’s right! Ya got me. It’s good to have a fox on your side, believe me! Especially since I’m granting your wish!”

“That’s not why I keep you around,” Iruka said, smiling.

“Eh?” Naruto asked.

“Eat your noodles,” Iruka said instead, turning back to his own dinner. “And we’re going to visit the mayor on Saturday, so watch your name calling around him.”

“Ehhhhh, whyyyy.”

“There’ll be cake, and Konohamaru will be there too.”

“ _Awesome_.”

Beneath their feet, Kakashi’s head tilted towards one party, then the other, his eyes flicking between them before studying Iruka curiously. Then, he yawned and settled down for another nap.

 

Iruka wasn’t entirely surprised when Kakashi followed them back home. He made a half-hearted attempt to put the dog off, but Kakashi just raised a furry brow at him and slid past him after Naruto. He didn’t seem inclined to be intrusive, so Iruka decided to treat him no different than a very furry ottoman. Tonight, Naruto didn’t feel like sleeping in his own bed, and instead, wandered out of the bedroom on four legs and curled up against the warm bulk of the larger dog.

“Well,” Iruka said helplessly, arms akimbo. “Now what?”

Kakashi lifted his head, but carefully enough not to disturb the sleeping kit. “I’ve changed my mind,” he said absently. “You’ll do.”

Iruka furrowed his brows. “I’ll do what?”

“I’ll need to stay close by though,” Kakashi added. “This rug is okay, but a cushion would be better to sleep on.”

After a revelatory pause, Iruka threw up his hands. “I’m not even sure if I’m allowed pets,” he said despairingly, and wandered off to the bedroom.

“Think of me as a… monitor then,” Kakashi called after him. “For Naruto’s sake.”

“Don’t you have anything better to do,” Iruka grumbled, flipping through his address book for his landlady’s contact information and making a mental note to stop by the pet store.

But he had to admit that on the way to the bathroom he snuck a picture or two of them sleeping in a pile, because it was really horribly cute.

 

“Naruto, stop fidgeting,” Iruka warned, wiping off the streak of mud on the boy’s face. “Honestly, I look away for one minute. And you! You’re even worse! You should know better,” he said, glaring at Kakashi who looked as if butter wouldn’t melt in his very fearsome jaws.

“But it was such a cool bug, Iruka, it had the craziest wings, and I wanted to catch it to show Konohamaru,” Naruto said, wrinkling his nose but standing still as Iruka went over the rest of him with a wet wipe.

“Maybe take a picture next time, huh?” Iruka said, straightening up and glancing over him quickly. “That’ll have to do. Let’s go, we’re running late, and you,” he pointed to Kakashi. “You, go home. Or go hang out with Gai. You can’t come.”

“Eh, why not?” Naruto’s hand closed protectively in Kakashi’s fur.

“Biwako-san is allergic,” Iruka said, folding his arms over his chest. “That means, Naruto, absolutely no fox form either, okay?”

“I wouldn’t, I know better than that!” Naruto puffed his chest out and Iruka ruffled his hair, then turned him firmly down the path that led up to a two-story house with a gray tiled roof and a wooden deck. The windows were open and Iruka could hear the sounds of laughter and conversation already. The grip on the bag of oranges he’d brought was damp with sweat.

“Good. Alright, here we go.” They tromped down to the door, and Iruka had barely brought his fist up to knock before the door slid open, and Hiruzen was smiling at him, puffing serenely on a pipe.

“Mr. Mayor,” Iruka greeted. “Sorry we’re late. These are for you.”

“Thank you, my boy. Come in, come in!” Hiruzen took the oranges, pleased, and waved them inside.

“This is Naruto. Naruto, this is Mayor Sarutobi. Say hello,” Iruka instructed, one hand firmly on the boy’s back.

“Hiya,” Naruto chirped. “So, you’re like the leader right? Does that make you the strongest guy in town?”

Hiruzen didn’t bat an eyelash. “I certainly have some power, but I use that to protect and serve our town. That’s only fair, don’t you think?”

Naruto broke into a wide grin. “Hell yeah! That’s what I’m gonna do too!”

“Language,” Iruka hissed, but Hiruzen chuckled.

“Go on, Konohamaru’s in the yard,” he said indulgently, and Naruto tripped off into the house. The old man then turned his attention back to Iruka, who was arranging Naruto’s carelessly kicked off shoes against the wall. “Well?”

“Hm?” Iruka straightened up with a smile, but Hiruzen was looking past him, an eyebrow raised.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me?” Hiruzen said.

“I don’t…” Iruka pivoted and blinked, mouth open.

There was a tall, rangy man in a gray coat and dark jeans standing behind him, slouched, hands in his pockets. He looked like he might be lost.

Iruka opened his mouth to ask if he could help him, but the man raised one hand in a desultory wave.

“Yo.”

“Hello,” Hiruzen said politely while Iruka froze. “I am Hiruzen Sarutobi.”

“Kakashi,” the man said, smiling, though the bottom of his face was wrapped in a thick gray scarf that almost matched his hair. “I’m Naruto’s legal guardian.”

“Oh, is that right?” Hiruzen smiled. “Welcome, welcome. Iruka told me you had been out of town for the past few months.”

“That’s right,” Kakashi said cheerfully, toeing off his shoes. “I’m back though.”

“I see. And do you live in town?”

Kakashi jerked a thumb at Iruka. Hiruzen’s eyes flicked to the stunned looking Iruka, then back. His smile grew into a broad, pleased grin.

“Oh-hh, like that, is it?” he laughed, and clapped Iruka’s shoulder. “Well, come in, come in! Biwako will be pleased to meet you, I think.” In a lower voice, he added, “Now I understand the paperwork wasn’t necessary, hey?”

“I—wh-what?” Iruka stammered. Kakashi sauntered after Hiruzen into the house. “Wait, no, that’s…”

“Come along, Iruka, Kakashi!” Hiruzen called. “My, these oranges look ripe. I’ll peel some for the table, I think Mirai will like these…”

“Yeah, come on,” Kakashi said, and winked at him.

“No, wait, stop,” Iruka said weakly, trailing after them. “I- Mr. Mayor! _Kakashi!_ ”


	4. Chapter 4

“Iruka-sensei!” Sakura and Naruto sang out in harmony. They were dragging Sasuke along, and Kakashi in human form trailed behind them, nose buried in a book.

“Hey, brats,” Mizuki greeted, waving. He turned to give Iruka a very significant, not very pleased look. His companion shrugged apologetically—they’d just been discussing going to a coffee shop to compare notes from the staff meeting. Iruka made a face and mouthed rain check? His friend shrugged in agreement.

So decided, Iruka shifted his messenger bag behind him and smiled at the odd little group marching up the sidewalk. Kakashi wore an indifferent look, but his air of ennui was flawed by the dried leaves crushed into his scarf and poking from his hair. The three hellions beamed smugly as they approached, their bloodlust sated for now.

“So this is the boyfriend?” Mizuki whispered, overloud. Iruka elbowed him sharply. The kids didn’t seem to hear, but Kakashi’s gaze flicked briefly to Mizuki, then back to his book.

“Mizuki, this is Kakashi. He’s Naruto’s guardian. Kakashi, this is my friend and coworker, Mizuki.”

“Nice to meet you,” Mizuki said.

“Yo,” Kakashi replied. Mizuki turned and gave Iruka another significant look. Iruka turned to the kids instead.

“You guys had fun?”

“Yeah, we went off the trail and like, found some rabbits hiding under three big old trees. And then Sakura yelled at me when I tried to catch one,” Naruto enthused.

“You shouldn't bother wild animals in the first place,” she shot back.

“Well, they shouldn’t have been staying so close to a fox den the first place,” he said before Kakashi gently dropped a fist on his head.

“Stop arguing. You guys give me a headache,” he murmured, calmly turning a page.

“How do you even know there’re foxes there anyways?” Sakura complained before falling silent when Kakashi looked at her.

Sasuke was suspiciously poker-faced.

 Iruka focused on the important information. “… You took them off the trail?”

The book closed with a clap. “Well, here they are, sensei,” Kakashi said brightly. “I saw an old lady who needs help collecting bottles behind the 7-Eleven, so I’ll be going now.”

“I know where you sleep at night,” Iruka growled, then punched Mizuki's arm when he cackled.

“Where’d you find this guy?” Mizuki muttered as they herded the kids along the sidewalk.

“I told you, he's Naruto's guardian that just moved back. They're crashing with me until he finds a better place.” Maybe Iruka should just get a doghouse in the backyard; his apartment had gotten a lot smaller in the past month.

“Yeah yeah.” Mizuki walked quietly for a while, but Iruka could practically hear the wheels in his head spinning. “And you really are just… this altruistic?”

“Is that such a surprise?” Iruka snapped under his breath.

“Excuse me for being concerned,” Mizuki said. “You never seemed interested in having kids and settling down. Now, all of a sudden, you’re talking about fostering some kid you just met less than two months ago, and moving in some boyfriend who seemed to appear out of thin fucking air. It’s like you’ve been… possessed or bewitched. You’re not you.”

“I _am_ me, and maybe I didn’t tell you anything because you’re always so _cynical_. Mizuki, it’s not some crazy conspiracy, I swear,” Iruka lied. “It's a temporary situation, and there's no... dating or adopting or anything like that in progress. I just wanted to help. They’re newcomers, they don’t deserve all this… petty, small town speculation.”

“I guess not,” Mizuki sneered. “Saint Iruka to the rescue.”

Iruka was prevented from answering as they arrived at Sasuke's home. They untangled the children's coats and scarves and backpack straps, and nearly lost a Pokemon water bottle in the chaos, but soon enough were waving Sasuke off as he let himself in; Genma, already home, leaned over the second floor balcony and hastily stubbed out his cigarette before disappearing inside with a wave to the group below.

They continued towards Sakura's house, the two children bickering as they trotted ahead, and Iruka and Mizuki locked in weird tense silence.

“Mizuki, I don’t want to fight,” Iruka sighed.

“Is that what we're doing?” Mizuki replied sweetly.

“I really don’t know.” The frustration must have been obvious, because after a moment, Mizuki shrugged and slapped his shoulder companionably.

“It’s nothing. Ah, you know how I get. Forget it.”

“You know you’re my best friend, right?” Iruka said, taking the peace offering.

“I know, Iruka,” he replied, a little sharp, and they lapsed into silence once more. He peeled off towards the grocery store after they'd dropped Sakura back home, ruffling Naruto's hair roughly and not bothering to do much more than nod curtly at Iruka. Admittedly, the sense of relief once he'd left was enormous; Mizuki and his quicksilver mood could be exhausting. They'd been friends since high school, were roommates for a couple years when they wound up at the same university, and now coworkers; they knew each other too well, Iruka thought ruefully. They each knew exactly how to piss the other one off. And Iruka was developing a suspicion that Mizuki didn’t much like the changes that had happened in Iruka’s life since he’d saved a hapless little fox kit in the school yard.

“Naruto, tell me more about wishes,” Iruka said. The boy slowed down and peered curiously at him.

“Did ya think of one yet?”

“Not yet. But maybe if I understood it better,” Iruka said.

“My mom used to say it was the best way to be free,” Naruto said. “I dunno how, exactly. Probably because you get more tails and more power!”

“And if you don’t grant your wish, you don't earn your tails.”

“But we always do!” Naruto grinned, a flash of sharp canines in the fast falling dark.

“Hm,” Iruka said, pensive. “What if I don’t think of a wish?”

“Sooner or later, everyone thinks of something. You’ll see. It’s cool, Sensei, my mom used to say true wishes for a true deed would be worth the wait. Anyways, d’you think we can go see Kiba's puppies sometime? I promised I’m gonna teach them how to hunt!”

Iruka agreed on autopilot and followed, lost in thoughts that were increasingly troubled. Freedom wasn't power, not for those supernatural entities who bargained with very different currency. As long as Iruka didn’t make a wish, Naruto was trapped.

Easily fixed; Iruka only had to make a wish, a heartfelt one. A small one might do, if it was true enough. Naruto and Kakashi would then be free again, wild and unbound from this small and earthly Konoha tether.

And Iruka would be alone again, once more.

 

Iruka had given Kakashi keys to the house; it was better than having his neighbors call him about the wild dog that was lingering near his trash cans, and did he need the number of the pound? So by the time Naruto tumbled inside, Iruka behind him, the lights were on and there were promising smells emerging from the kitchen.

“We’re back,” Naruto sang. “Kakashi, what’re you doing?”

“Feeding myself,” was the noncommittal reply. Iruka peeked into the kitchen and saw the tall man slouched over a large pot of soup while reading his book.

“But I’m hungry,” Naruto whined. Kakashi, without looking up, plucked something from inside Iruka’s old teapot with chopsticks and flung it in the direction of Naruto.

“GNAAAURRHG,” Iruka said, backing away so fast he nearly brained himself against the wall.

“OH BOY,” Naruto hollered gleefully, shrank down into a fox kit, and pounced after the panicked grasshopper.

“Oh my god, _wash that before you stick it in dinner again,_ ” Iruka shouted. “Why are you hiding bugs in my _teapot._ ”

“So they can’t escape,” Kakashi replied reasonably, but he did that stupid eye-crinkling smile over his be-scarfed face and rinsed off the chopsticks under the sink tap.

“Next time, please, please don’t bring that inside the house,” Iruka said tiredly. If there _was_ a next time, his brain added silently. “I’m going to set the table,” he declared, and marched off. His exit was somewhat ruined when Naruto trotted up and spat out the mangled remains of the grasshopper at his feet with obvious pride.

“ _Naruto,”_ he said, despairingly while the kit danced happily about his feet, and Kakashi chortled behind him and the doorbell started going off. He shooed Naruto aside and went to the door, feeling frazzled. “Oh, Mizuki,” he said blankly upon opening the door. “What’re you doing here?”

Mizuki brandished a bottle of sake. “Let me in, loser, I’m apologizing,” he said, and elbowed into the apartment.

“Wait, hold on,” Iruka said, scrambling to stall him, but Mizuki just smirked and dodged his efforts. “Mizuki!”

“Hey, kid,” Mizuki said. Iruka was relieved to see Naruto in boy form once more, regarding the visitor warily. “Got you something.” He tossed a pack of candies to him with a wink.

“Say thank you,” Iruka said automatically.

“Thanks!” Naruto said dutifully and scampered off to the kitchen to show Kakashi. Mizuki gave Iruka a pointed look, and Iruka rolled his eyes and shoved him gently.

“Who would’ve thought,” Mizuki marveled. “You really have become a dad.”

“Oh, shut up,” Iruka sighed, bringing them glasses for the sake.

“Hey, kid, come in here,” Mizuki said, eyes glinting. “You wanna hear what Iruka was like when he was your age?”

“YEAH,” Naruto hollered, skidding into the table.

“Okay, so you know what a boy scout is, right?”

“Oh my _god,_ Mizuki.”

“Sit down, Umino. This is what you want, right? Your best friend and your kid, bonding. Oh gross, what is that on your floor?”

 

Four hours later, and Iruka slunk into the kitchen, slightly tipsy and tired, but feeling much more at peace with the world. Mizuki, as usual, had drunk more than his limit and fallen asleep on the couch—it was a familiar phenomenon, though it hadn’t happened since Naruto moved in. Naruto was in his own bed, hopefully well on his way to sleep. He’d gotten along far better with Mizuki tonight than before, and Iruka was... relieved. Kakashi hadn’t spoken much, just ate and listened as Mizuki and Iruka swapped stories of their wild youth, and now he was putting on the kettle for tea. Iruka threw an old blanket over Mizuki and went into the kitchen. “Can I help— _what_ are you reading?”

“Hm?” Kakashi said, but his face, what was visible anyways, seemed to gain an air of furtiveness. “I borrowed it from the library.”

“On who’s card?” Iruka demanded, swiping the book from his hand despite his protests. He stared at the cover, then the back cover. “This- this is…”

“A startlingly sensitive portrayal of love and loyalty, exquisite in its passionate yet sincere rendering? There’s so many feelings, sensei,” Kakashi said earnestly. “I am very moved.” If he’d had his tail, it would’ve been wagging hopefully.

“…trash,” Iruka said flatly. “Don’t read this stuff where kids can see you, for goodness’ sake. _I_ don’t want to know you’re reading this!”

“Where is your heart, Sensei,” Kakashi chided, and swiped the book back, clutching it protectively.

“Where it’s meant to be, and not in my pants,” Iruka said indignantly, and felt even more so when Kakashi laughed.

“Have some tea,” Kakashi said, cool and amused again.

With some dignity, Iruka sat down at the table and allowed Kakashi to pour them each a cup.

“Your friend is a lightweight,” Kakashi said, glancing at Mizuki.

“Never tell him that,” Iruka said. “He’ll go for your throat.”

“Concerned for me, Sensei?”

Iruka stared at him flatly. “For him, more like. I’d like him to remain in one piece. He’s an asshole, but he’s always looked out for me.”

“Hm,” Kakashi said.

Iruka was feeling magnanimous after a quarter bottle of sake, and so was prepared to defend his Mizuki’s dubious honor, when the bedroom door creaked open and Naruto darted out on four legs.

“Naruto!” Iruka hissed in surprise, glancing at the couch. His friend was, thankfully, dead to the world and snoring away. Naruto leapt lightly into Iruka’s lap.

“Can’t sleep,” he said mulishly, curling his tail over his muzzle.

“Did you even try?”

“Yeah! I tried really hard, Iruka, I did!”

“Come on then,” Kakashi said, standing up and snatching Naruto out of Iruka’s lap with one smooth motion. “Let’s go for a run.”

“This late? Naruto, you’ve got to get up early tomorrow if you want to go to Kiba’s house,” Iruka said.

“It’s cool, foxes don’t need a lot of sleep!” Naruto yipped back excitedly. Kakashi exchanged dry looks with Iruka.

“I’ll run him down and get him back in an hour,” he said as Iruka let them out into the backyard.

“Alright, fine,” Iruka said, and watched them gambol about in the backyard until Kakashi led them out through the loose board in the fence and into the forest beyond.

Iruka padded back to put away the tea cups, the apartment silent once again—he briefly worried if Mizuki had woken up with all the noise, but after a long silence, his snoring started up again. With a long, low sigh, Iruka smiled and shuffled into the kitchen.

 

The next morning, Iruka sent a snappish Mizuki off home with a thermos of instant coffee and dropped Naruto off at the Inuzuka residence, where indeed there was a fresh litter of puppies all wriggling and meeping and falling over themselves to kiss anyone in their way. Iruka left Naruto and Kiba giggling in the shed, slowly being smothered by ecstatic squeaky balls of white and tan fluff. Kakashi, who’d accompanied them in dog form, had taken one sniff of the pile and wheeled right out, so now he followed Iruka into town. In lieu of a collar and leash, which, when Iruka had suggested it, had put his ears back, Kakashi had grudgingly allowed Iruka to tie a dark gray bandanna around his neck. He still drew stares—the size of him, even at his least threatening, was enough to earn a doubletake—but at least no one would call for a dog catcher.

Iruka made his rounds on the town, picking up toothpaste, a new set of towels, some dried plums. Kakashi followed him, waiting patiently on the sidewalk as he went about his business. It was a bitterly cold, if sunny day, but Kakashi didn’t seem to mind at all; coming out of the pharmacy, Iruka found Kakashi playing benevolent furnace to two other less furry dogs also waiting for their owners. They looked doleful as Kakashi gently shook them off to follow Iruka.

“Coffee, I think, and some work,” Iruka said when the dog gave him a questioning look. They went around the corner to the old _kissaten_ that had been around when Iruka’s parents had been dating. This time, Iruka motioned him inside; the owner was fond of animals, and also grandmother to one of his students.

He took a small table near the window and ordered a coffee and some tea sandwiches, and water for Kakashi.

“Quite a handsome fellow,” Akimichi-san said, scratching behind Kakashi's ear. Iruka, who had meticulously avoided treating the terrifying shape shifting entity like a normal pet, smiled weakly. Kakashi didn’t seem to mind; he allowed the shop owner to pat him for a little while longer before retreating under the table and promptly falling asleep.

Iruka nibbled at his meal as he graded homework assignments—it was usually peaceful in this establishment, with most if the younger crowd preferring the new, sleek café on the next block. The aged wooden bar and furniture, the rough glazed pots of ferns and succulents around windows, and that old homey smell of savory food and coffee grounds was comforting though, a trait of the place that hadn't changed since Iruka first came over twenty years ago.

“Oh, Sensei!”

Beaming at him from the doorway was Gai, red cheeked from the cold. Iruka hastily shuffled some papers and invited him to sit.

“How are you, Gai?” he greeted as Gai pulled out the chair across from him.

“Very well, very well! And I see where my old friend has disappeared to! Hello!” he reached down and tousled Kakashi's head fondly. “I worried, but now I see you have chosen to enrich the lives of Iruka-sensei and the young Naruto! How bold and hip!”

Kakashi didn’t seem to have much of a response—he whuffed against Iruka's knees and lay back down. Gai laughed and sat down.

“I’m sorry, Gai, I should have notified you about Ka- him,” Iruka said, uncertain how much Gai actually knew about Kakashi’s true nature.

“Oh, I am well aware he is no tame animal! He goes where he chooses, a wild spirit untrammeled,” Gai declared. Akimichi-san brought his tea over and exchanged an amused look with Iruka. “So tell me, how is the young Naruto? I hear his father is back as well?”

“Guardian,” Iruka corrected as Kakashi twitched under the table. “Naruto is on a playdate with the Inuzuka boy today.” Kakashi, perhaps not caring to hear more, rose up and ambled up under the counter to nap in relative peace.

They exchanged further pleasantries, and eventually lapsed into companionable silence. Gai looked serene as he sipped his tea and gazed out the window which overlooked the small gorge that dipped between Konoha mountain and the south end of the village. A bodhisattva with questionable taste in haircuts, Iruka thought, and bit back a smile.

“Gai, may I ask your advice?” Iruka asked after a moment. Gai beamed.

“I am honored to be of help, sensei! I will endeavor to provide sound advice, else I swear to hike to Konoha summit ten times!”

“Oh, no, no, please don't,” Iruka said. “It’s your opinion I’d like to ask.”

“Of course. Please,” Gai said, and adopted a sober, attentive mien.

Iruka twisted the coffee cup on its dish, staring at the ring of watery coffee that had spilled and puddled around the foot. “Have you ever questioned your own judgment? When you thought you’d been doing the right and good thing, but it turns out you were doing the one thing you had wished to avoid?”

Gai considered this solemnly. “I think it would be shocking to always have perfect judgement, sensei. Many times, I have thought twice, then thrice upon my decisions.”

“Have you ever had to reconsider your… path?”

“Iruka-sensei, do we speak of Regret?” The ‘r’ was audibly capitalized.

Sometimes, Iruka wished Gai was less Shakespearean in his line delivery. He felt a little silly, but at least there weren’t many others party to their conversation.

“It’s only that there have been so many changes in the past few months, and I’ve been wondering if some decisions I’ve made a little carelessly,” he said.

 Gai nodded. “Ah, yes. I think I understand. You worry for those in your care as well, of Naruto. Of course you would be concerned with your choices! Why, at times I wonder if I am truly the best mentor for my own nephew, that young and indomitable soul, Rock Lee.” Iruka recalled a boy from the previous year with a familiar bowl cut in Suzuki-san’s class.

“I’ve been learning more about Naruto’s situation, and well,” he sighed. “I might be a teacher, but I’m realizing more and more I don’t know much at all about caring for a child out of the classroom.” Especially one as extraordinary as Naruto. “I think I’ve been making decisions without knowing the full picture, and now I fear Naruto will be harmed in the long run. Because of my- my selfishness.”

“Sensei!” Gai seemed briefly at a loss as Iruka fiddled with a napkin.

“I don't think I know what I'm really doing,” he confessed.

Gai chuckled and regarded him quietly for a moment. “When Lee was still a young, toddling thing, I spent a week caring for him while his mother was away for business. I barely understood what my task was – when did he need food? A change? A nap? Those were not questions I knew to ask right away. I brought him with me as I trained, showed him how to make a fist with his pudgy little hand. I carried him up Mount Konoha, showed him the beautiful sights of our precious mountain village.  He ate the same wild blackberries that we plucked together, and slept as I swept the temple, cradled in the woven straw basket that often held ripe persimmons in autumn. At night, he cried because his little legs and arms were sore, and I thought surely, I had truly scarred this young, bright soul, and I was nearly as inconsolable as he was.  I imagined others would say, why did you lead a fragile child into such wild and dangerous places? What if he had run off, eaten something dangerous, been stung or bitten? Is this not irresponsible? Oh, I felt such shame and terror! I thought, surely I must have done everything wrong, and his life would be immeasurably altered by my mistakes of that week!”

“That seems a little extreme,” Iruka said.

“Exactly!” Gai agreed. “By the time I regained my senses, prepared to haul him to the hospital emergency room, he'd found a pack of crackers in my bag and was happily crushing the remains into my carpet, pleased as can be. I look back now and I can laugh—yes, children need steady care, a nap schedule, everything they talk about in books. But most of all, they need people to love them, who are willing to try their best. Children are very resilient, Sensei.”

“I just have so many… doubts, “ iruka said

“Oh, yes. I, too, feel that great naysayer deep in our consciousness. But in the end, you must not question those choices made with the passionate determination of your will.”

A warm weight pressed on Iruka's leg; Kakashi had returned and was staring up at him with a soulful eye.

“He is requiring your attention,” Gai said amused. Very gingerly, Iruka lowered a hand to the top of his furry head and patted him twice.

It was quiet a moment in the café, and Gai finished his tea and pushed back from the table. “I must leave and continue my laps around town now; twenty more before the sun goes down! But I thank you for your company, sensei!” His smile was blinding, and Iruka couldn’t help smiling back

“Thanks, Gai,” he said. “You’re a good friend.”

“I’m so touched! And may I say how I shall treasure this brief yet impactful meeting of hearts we have shared?” He reached down to ruffle Kakashi's head again. “Communication is key, Sensei!”

Iruka waved as he bounded out the door, full of energy and cheer.

“He’s something alright” Akimichi-san muttered from the counter.

 

 

“Naruto,” Iruka sighed. “Is it enough of a wish if I asked that you settle down? It’s past ten, you need to be in bed.”

“Foxes don’t have bedtimes,” Naruto declared. He was perched proudly on the back of the couch, sans clothes, sans fur, sans all sense of shame or dignity.

“Baths truly will not kill you,” Iruka said, despairing. His charge cackled madly and attempted to make a break for it. Unfortunately for him, Iruka had spent years familiarizing himself intimately with the corners of the apartment—there were only so many ingenious moves one could make when faced with the same T-shaped layout, and Iruka managed to loop an arm about the boy’s waist and hauled him, shrieking with laughter, off to the bathroom.

“Baths are kind of okay. I guess,” Naruto confessed as Iruka scrubbed a handful of shampoo through his hair.  Now that he’d been cornered into the shower, Naruto was quiescent, sitting on his plastic stool and allowing Iruka to fuss over him.

“I’m glad you think so,” Iruka said, struggling with an especially fraught knot of hair. “It’s nonnegotiable if you want to live under this roof.”

“Ehhhh?” Naruto whined. “Do I hafta?”

“Oh yes, Stinky,” Iruka said. “Showers every day, scrubbing behind your ears, your hair, the works. And the public onsen once a week, if you can behave.”

“More bathwater,” Naruto pouted. Iruka knocked his head gently, and carefully held the showerhead behind one hand so that the water would not run into his eyes.

“Now I see! You wouldn’t appreciate it. Onsens are the mark of civilized folks, but you are a wild fox after all. “

“I can I can! I can appreciate things!”

“Oh, so you do want to go to the onsen?” Iruka asked, amused. Naruto twisted up, grinning.

“We-ell, I guess if you like it, I can trryyyyyyy it too,” he declared, startling Iruka into laughter.

“Next time,” he promised, then leaned over to grab the towel.

He herded Naruto into the bedroom, where his small futon was already laid out. Naruto went gladly under the covers; sometimes, he crawled from the blankets on little fleet paws to huddle in a small fluffy circle atop Iruka's feet, or sprawl across Kakashi's bulk in the living room, but he always began the night as a boy.

“Iruka, so you have your wish yet?” Naruto yawned, the question rote by now.

“… Naruto, can I ask you something first?”

“’course!”

Iruka tucked him in tightly and smoothed the wrinkles on the comforter. “Do you… like it here?”

“Yeah, ‘s'warm,” Naruto slurred.

“I mean, do you miss the forest? Being a wild fox?” Iruka asked.

“Oh, sometimes. I don't like homework,” Naruto said. Iruka laughed quietly.

“Do you want to go back?”

Naruto peered at him from behind his fringe of blond hair, eyes sharpening. “Eh, sensei, I like it here. But I don't have to stay,” he said, sounding uncertain.

“No, no! I just – I just wanted to make sure you knew that you could leave if you wanted to. I don't want to be forcing you to stay here. Even if you have a task to fulfill.”

“But what if I like it here?” Naruto asked after a moment.

Iruka smiled, affection like hot sunshine warming his chest. “Then I’m glad to have you, for as long as you'd like to stay.”

He sat with Naruto a while longer before padding back into the living room, feeling both lighter and aching with some unnamed emotion. Kakashi had wandered back from wherever he tended to go, and was leaning against the kitchen counter, peering at him over another terrible smutty novel. He was always leaning on things, doors, walls, trees… Iruka had horrible suspicion Kakashi thought it made him look cool.

“Sensei,” he greeted.

Iruka rubbed at his forehead. “What's wrong with normal literature?”

“They aren't half so expressive,” Kakashi said loftily.

Iruka went through the motions of making tea, Kakashi avidly ignoring him in favor of his lurid romance novel. He drifted to the table when Iruka poured him a cup though and even set aside the book. He sipped politely, then waited.

Iruka squirmed. “I think I have a wish,” he admitted.

 Kakashi blinked slowly.

“I don’t think I should make it.”

“It will come out eventually,” Kakashi pointed out placidly.

“But maybe I can substitute it for a different one? Cash? Or, or a couch?” Iruka asked.

“If that was all it took, I don’t think we be having this conversation,” Kakashi replied, amused. “A couch, sensei?”

Iruka flushed. “Furniture is expensive.”

“May be worth a try, “ Kakahi shrugged. “My back would thank you. “

Iruka squinted at him. “…. You better not be sleeping on the couch as a dog. “

“Why sensei,” Kakashi said shiftily, “how can you accuse me of such a thing. “

“Murasaki-san has an old dog house, you know,” Iruka said. “He keeps telling me it’s unhealthy to keep animals in the house.”

Kakashi stood up. “What horrible habit humans have of threatening baseless cruelty on the innocent. A doghouse! I have a whole temple, what do I need doghouse for?”

“To preserve my couch, apparently,” Iruka said dryly. Kakashi shot him an aggrieved look and slunk off to sulk under the coffee table.


	5. Chapter 5

Mostly, Sakura didn’t mind Naruto tagging along and being annoying when she was hanging out with Sasuke. Naruto was kind of embarrassing, and weird, but he was also funny and had the craziest, best bad ideas, and she was self-aware enough to know she kind of liked crazy sometimes. It’s why her best friend was Ino, who, sure, was the most popular girl in school, but had also built her reputation by stabbing a boy with a fork in kindergarten.

And even Sakura had to admit that Naruto was probably the main reason she could spend so much time with Sasuke anyways—without him, they’d probably never exchange another word until graduation. But somehow, that stupid group project and their first joint adventure to the principal’s office had done what months of physical proximity and blushing looks hadn't, and now, Sasuke even said ‘hi’ to her first sometimes! And okay, they didn’t hang out together without Naruto, but that’s still better than what Ino got, which was barely a look of acknowledgment, _ha_!

Today the teachers had organized a nature hike for all the classes in their year in conjunction with Gai-san, up one of the easier Konoha Mountain trails. The trail was marked off and had teachers posted along the way, where they would show the student hikers something interesting about the forest. To both Sakura’s irritation and glee, Naruto had nabbed her and Sasuke both to be in his group.

“Iruka-senseiiii, were ready!” Naruto hollered in her ear. “Ow! Man, Sakura, why you gotta hit so hard?”

“So loud,” Sasuke muttered.

“ _Too_ loud!” Sakura agreed.

There was Gai-sensei at the head of the trail, encouraging bemused children to draw the fresh mountain air into their lungs for cleansing and energy, and Hinata who was tearing up because she’d forgotten to bring a bottle of water, and general chaos as five adults tried to corral forty children. 

“I hear you, Naruto, please no shouting—it’s ok, Hinata, let’s just go back to the van, we have extra bottles water there, Chouji, please don’t put that in your mouth it could be poiso- Oh, Shino, put that down!” Iruka sensei sounded like the TV when her dad flipped through the channels.

“Hey, Iruka,” Mizuki-sensei from the next classroom said, “Go ahead and take your class up, I need to go get something from the van, and I’ll bring up extra water.”

Iruka-sensei threw him a grateful smile and begin hustling their classmates into some semblance of order, sending them up the trail in trios.

Sakura and her team lingered until the last group had gone

“Why don’t you get started then,” Iruka said, glancing down towards the parking lot. “I’ll wait for Mizuki, and see if he needs any help bringing anything up.”

“By ourselves?” Sakura blurted out, glancing at the dark forest trail.

Naruto hitched up his backpack and grinned. “It’s all good, guys! Besides, I’d never get lost in the forest! Believe me!”

“Don’t brag,” Sakura said. “I’ve seen you get lost in the art supply store.”

“Hey, everything smelled really confusing okay? Trees and stuff are different, believe me!”

“Still, lots to learn, kids,” Iruka-sensei said cheerfully, and Sakura twitched sideways into Sasuke; she’d almost forgotten about him. “Remember, you’ll meet with Suzume-sensei at the midpoint for lunch.”

“Are you sure you won’t come with us?” Naruto asked.

Iruka-sensei smiled and waved them on. “Go ahead, kids. We’ll be right behind.” Sakura frowned a little. Sasuke, she noticed, flicked his gaze between the teacher and Naruto before he turned back to the path ahead.

They walked in quiet for a bit. It was a cold day, snow fresh past the ropes off path Gai had set up—the trail was already well traveled, and a bit squishy with cold mud—the three of them had come prepared in big weatherproof boots, but Sakura still winced at the sensation of sinking into soft ground.

Sasuke had been given the map with the clues, so naturally, Naruto declared that he should be holder of the map since he knew these woods so much better, and they jostled with increasing violence on the muddy trail until Sakura felt her patience snap. She elbowed Naruto out of the way and snatched the map up.

“We should stop fighting and hurry up, or else we’ll miss lunch,” she said sternly, and was gratified when Naruto bobbed his head meekly, and Sasuke didn’t protest except to scowl. She strode off purposefully, and they found Suzume-sensei in short order waiting for them at the first learning station with a collection of tree leaves for them to identify.

Between Sasuke and Sakura, they were able to identify most specimens. Naruto wasn’t great at remembering names of trees, but he seemed to be familiar with them and was able to prompt his friends with clues. Sakura had to swallow giggle when he pointed at the maple tree branch and said, “That’s the one you put on your eye if it gets all gooey with infection!”

The three of them received stamps for their good work and continued on. Sasuke had by then reclaimed ownership of the map and was further up the trail, determined to reach the lunch spot first and ignore his groupmates for forty minutes.

“Naruto, you're so odd,” Sakura said, feeling benevolent as they trooped behind Sasuke.

“Huh?” he gave her a skeptical look. “Why?”

“Because most people wouldn't care about what kind of tree bark you can eat and which you can’t.”

“Yeah, and that’s why so many of you humans end up alone and dead in the forest, probably. You should take it seriously, unless you want to die like that too,” he said seriously.

Sakura punched him. “You idiot,” she seethed and stormed off ahead.

“Hey, wait,” Naruto shouted. “We gotta stick together!”

“Go eat a tree,” Sakura replied.

Behind her, Naruto grumbled a bit, and then she heard some low laughter and murmuring—Iruka-sensei, probably. So he’ll be fine anyways. Ugh.

 

“Boys are so dumb,” Sakura grumbling as she dropped into her seat besides Ino and Hinata at one of the picnic tables, digging her chopsticks into her bento with more force than necessary.

“I- I think Naruto means well,” Hinata said.

“You’re too nice,” Ino said, patting her shoulder. “Sakura’s right; boys are dumb, and Naruto is dummy number one.” Ino, Sakura was learning, was one of those girls that enjoyed putting pedal to the metal in all areas of life.

“Usually, I don’t care, you know? He’s weird but I mean, Kakashi-san’s his guardian, and that guy is off-the-walls bonkers. He thought it was funny to make us climb a tree for lunch. Naruto kept trying to run up the trunk and Sasuke pretty much sat out, so I was the only one who even tried. In the end, he bought us food anyways,” Sakura grumped, oblivious to the raised eyebrows of her friends.

“How is your mom okay with that?” Ino asked.

Sakura shrugged. “She likes Iruka-sensei.”

The other girls nodded. Iruka-sensei was impossible to dislike.

“But it sounds like you guys have so much fun. My father won’t even let me go to the park unless I bring cousin Neji,” Hinata said wistfully. “He thinks I’m too clumsy, and I’ll hurt myself on playground.”

“Fall off the monkey bars and break your arm one time,” Ino said, and Sakura poked her. “Ow!”

“Be nice.”

“I am nice! I'm the nicest girl ever!” Ino said, outraged. “Meanwhile, you with your big forehead and crazy anger issues—”

“Shut up, Ino-pig! Like you're any better!”

“Please stop fighting…”

“Look, now you've upset Hinata. Good job, Pinky. “

“You are seriously _unbelievable_ , you – you manipulative jerk!”

“Uh, excuse me?”

“ _What?!”_ both Ino and Sakura whirled on the intruder, teeth bared.

Sasuke looked like he wished the ground would swallow him whole. “Sakura, can I talk to you?”

She blinked. Opened her mouth and closed it. “Of- of course,” she squeaked. “What's up?”

He glanced around, then in a low voice, “In private?”

Without meaning to, Sakura caught the glance of Ino, who looked as gobsmacked as she felt. When she saw Sakura looking, her eyebrows snapped together, and she made a hasty ‘go, you idiot!’ hand gesture. _True friendship_ , Sakura thought with a rush of affection, and scrambled from her seat to follow Sasuke. All around them the students and teachers were gathered, eating and chatting, so the two of them ventured towards the edge of the picnic area where it was quieter.

“What's up?” she said casually.

“Have you seen Naruto?” he asked. Immediately, she felt her expression drop into a scowl.

“No. Why do I care where he is? I'm not his mom. “

But Sasuke didn't look reassured. “Are you sure?” he persisted.

“How would I know? He was behind me when we came up to get lunch and he was being dumb, so I wasn’t exactly paying attention to him.”

But the expression on Sasuke's face was starting to penetrate her irritation.

“…why? What's going on?”

He glanced at her shiftily. “Nothing. Go back to lunch.” He made to leave but Sakura grabbed his arm.

“No way,” she said firmly. “We're a team. Tell me what’s wrong. I can help. “

“How?” he sneered. “By making fun of him?”

She jerked back, hurt. “He's my friend too,” she said. “Besides, you’re not that nice to him either.”

He glared at her, then shrugged. “Whatever.”

Sasuke was kind of a jerk, Sakura thought. Ugh, _boys._ “He was behind me, and I think he was talking to a teacher, so he’s probably okay,” she said.

“Iruka-sensei?” Sasuke asked.

“Probably, I didn’t see. Let’s just go ask him,” she suggested.

“Wait,” Sasuke said. “if we do that, then the teachers'll freak. We should try to find him first.”

“If you say so?” Sakura said doubtfully. He nodded firmly.

“Okay, so you heard him talking to someone, right? What kind of voice?”

“An adult, I think. I’m pretty sure it was a man,” Sakura said, thinking back. “I mean, it sounded like they knew each other. He was laughing.”

Sasuke was busy scanning the crowd—already, the groups were starting to line up again, continuing on the nature walk. “We better see who else is missing, before everyone clears out,” he said. Sakura glanced at the teachers as well, trying to remember who had been around earlier that morning.

“I see everyone,” she said with some concern. “All the teachers from our year are here.”

“This is not good,” Sasuke muttered, and she stared at him in consternation.

“He’ll be okay, he knows a lot about—well, about tree bark and stuff,” she said, but he looked away and was silent. As they stalked the edges of the clearing, the silence grew tenser. “Okay, stop,” she ordered, planting herself in his way. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing,” he lied.

She punched his arm. “Liar.” Then she tried to keep a straight face instead of apologizing hysterically in the face of his shock. “I- oh, wait. Where’s Mizuki-sensei?”

They suddenly lapsed into intent silence as they searched about the clearing for the teacher. Sasuke made a dissatisfied sound.

“Half the teachers are gone by now,” he said. “Lunch is over.”

“But he was right behind us, when we started,” Sakura pointed out. “Maybe he saw something.”

“Come on then,” Sasuke said, eyeing the remaining teachers warily. “Let’s retrace our steps before anyone sees us.”

The whole planned trail went in a full loop, no doubling back, so the first half of the trail was now empty. It seemed suddenly much colder and ominous now that Sakura knew there was no teacher stationed at the next curve.

“What were you gonna say?” she asked Sasuke.

“Nothing,” he replied stubbornly, and she scowled.

“Fine,” she said, and looked into the shadow-dappled forest beyond the trail. “ _Naruto!_ Where are you?”

“Stop shouting!” Sasuke hissed, grabbing her arm.

“Well how else is he going to know we’re looking for him?” she replied sensibly. The look he gave her was withering, but Sakura only wilted a little, fortified as she was by exasperation.

“The idiot is most likely in trouble,” he said. “We need to keep the element of surprise, not announce out loud that we're looking for them!”

Sakura stared at him. “He could just be lost. “

“That’s impossible,” he said flatly.

“Just because he spends so much time here with Kakashi doesn't mean it's not impossible,” she argued. “It’s a really big mountain. Or maybe he's hurt, and can't walk. “

The look he gave her was outraged and impressed. She preened a little.

“Look, he's probably in danger okay!” he grumbled.

“But why? How are you so sure?” she said, exasperated. “Just tell me!”

A firm hand gripped her shoulder. “Why don't you tell _me_ what on earth you two are doing here without any teachers?”

Sakura jumped and clapped her hands over her mouth.

Iruka-sensei frowned down on them, his gaze flicking between them. “Where's Naruto?”

“We were just looking for him, Sensei!” Sakura said. “He wasn't at lunch. “

“…Why didn't you tell anyone?” Iruka asked, already swinging his gaze back and forth. “Sakura, you know this is a serious matter. And Sasuke, you too.”

Sakura hung her head. She hated disappointing Iruka-sensei, especially since it wasn’t even her idea in the first place. In this instance, Sasuke was no different from Daisuke, and apparently Sakura hadn't learned a thing.

“Sensei, we last saw Naruto after leaving the first teaching station. Did you see him when you came up?” Sasuke asked.

“No, I didn’t see anyone,” Iruka said, his eyebrows drawing together.

“Maybe he was trying to find you,” Sakura suggested; Naruto clung pretty hard to their teacher, after all.

“Well, let's see if we can find him, since we're all here anyways,” Iruka sighed, not sounding too worried. “Come on.” The three of them continued down the forest path, calling intermittently for Naruto. There was no answer though, even when they reached the bottom of the trail, and turned back up. The worried crease was becoming deeper in Iruka-sensei’s brow, and even Sasuke seemed tenser.

“I think I am going to have to call this in,” Iruka said, fetching his phone from his pocket then made a noise of frustration. “No reception. Let's go up to the lunch area, and-”

“Sensei,” Sakura breathed, and pointed. “Look!”

There was a dragged patch of snow leading off the trail that they hadn't noticed before, but the rope marking the trail was slack as if it had been pushed loose, and the snow was deep enough to show a clear, broken path winding into the trees.

“…oh, no,” Iruka said. He returned back to his phone but cursed half-heartedly. “Sasuke-kun, do you have Kakashi's number?”

“No, Sensei,” Sasuke said, and Iruka tossed him his own phone.

“I need you to head up to the clearing and call him right away, okay? Tell him where we are, and that I'm going after Naruto. Then call Gai. Sakura, go with him. “

“But, Sensei!”

“No arguments, kids. Do as you're told, alright? I'm counting on you. It’s alright. Naruto probably got distracted by squirrels and wandered off.” He flashed then a reassuring grin, and shooed them on before turning back towards the messy path into the forest.

“This is not good,” Sakura fretted, clutching Sasuke’s backpack as they hastened up the trail. “What aren't you telling me?”

“Be quiet, I'm trying to get reception,” he snapped, twisting the phone in one direction, then the other.

Her temper frayed. “Stop ignoring me, and just tell me why you and Sensei are freaking out! It's making _me_ freak out!” she shouted.

Sasuke looked surprised, then seemed to catch on to her genuine agitation.

“… Naruto isn't a normal kid,” he said after a moment.  Sakura had figured. Ino had speculated that Naruto was the scion of some uber rich billionaire who wanted his kid to have a normal life in some Podunk mountain village. Sakura herself had bet two Kit-Kats on ‘son of a Yakuza clan in witness protection.’

“Well, duh,” she said impatiently, and Sasuke's mouth twisted, like he wasn't even sure his next few words would make any sense.

“He's a fox spirit,” he said quickly. “He's a fox that can turn into a boy. I've seen him. “

“A fox spirit,” she echoed. He grimaced, but nodded. They walked on silently for a while, until they reached the picnic area again. Sakura wasn't sure why Sasuke was lying, and was honestly a little hurt, but there were more important things at hand as he grappled with the phone in vain. He glared helplessly at the phone's contact list with growing dismay. “I don't see Kakashi,” he said.

“Let me see,” she said and plucked the phone from his hands. Carefully, she scrolled through the recent calls list, thought about it for a moment, then tapped the last call from “Shameless Freeloader”.

The phone rang once, twice, and then Kakashi picked up with a disgruntled hello. Sakura and Sasuke exchanged a triumphant look.

“Kakashi-san? It’s Sakura. Iruka-sensei told us to call you—”

“Ahh. What happened to Naruto?” he said sharply. Sakura glanced at Sasuke, then quickly summarized the situation.

“Got it,” Kakashi said after she'd finished, and hung up.

Sasuke plucked the phone from her hand then, and called Gai and the other teachers.

After that, there was nothing to do but sit and wait.

A fox spirit, though, Sakura thought testily. Honestly, couldn't they have thought of a better lie of they wanted to keep their little secrets?

Ugh, _boys._


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's the last of it! Thanks for the love and for sticking around.

The trail was fairly clear and straight at first, where Naruto had plunged through the thickest and smoothest party of the snow. But the trees grew thicker and closer together, and the trail was craggy, the snow deep and bone-cold. Iruka pressed on though, shouting for Naruto. He wasn't sure why he was so frantic – Naruto after all, came from these forests, was as much a part of the woods as any tree or mountain spring. But with each step in, the sense of foreboding grew heavier. By the time he caught a flash of yellow between the trees, Iruka was bordering on panic.

“Naruto!” he shouted, alarm carrying his voice across the distance. “There you are!”

“Eh, Iruka-sensei!” The boy looked surprised as he caught sight of Iruka. “What're you doing here?”

“Looking for you, you little reprobate,” Iruka growled, stalking towards him. Relief was like a knife cut, shocking and almost painful. It was alarming, the amount of fear that had clouded his mind since he’d realized his charge had gone missing. Definitely not a normal teacher reaction.

Naruto looked surprised and a bit hunted. Good; the little delinquent better be thinking about consequences. “Heyyyyy so, are you mad?”

“I'm furious!” Iruka cried, clamping his hands down on Naruto's shoulders and resisting the urge to shake him. “What were you thinking, running off like that without telling anyone? I thought you were in trouble!”

“You were worried?” Naruto asked.

Iruka opened his mouth to reply before he clocked the expression on the boy’s face and sighed instead. “Of course, you little hellion,” he said. “We look out for each other, remember? If I've got you, then you've got me.”

“Oh, yeah. Right.” Naruto scratched at his nose, ducking his chin.

“Yes, right. Now what exactly were you doing out here? And why didn't you tell anyone?”

“Well… it was supposed to be a surprise,” Naruto said excitedly. “Mizuki-sensei said we should—”

“Hang on, Mizuki? Mizuki knows you're out here?” Iruka frowned.

“In fact, I brought him out here. Hello, Iruka,” Mizuki said pleasantly from behind.

“Mizuki, what the hell – Oh my god, what the _hell_ ,” Iruka said, twisting around and nearly stumbling back in shock. His old friend was smiling grimly, and in one hand, he held a can of lighter fluid, and in the other, a curved, heavy blade, the kind used to split firewood and kindling.

“Iruka, perfect timing,” he said as he drew nearer. He waggled the can. “I was just about to get started.”

“Start what, what the hell are you doing?” Iruka shouted, his voice going high with alarm, and he crowded Naruto behind him.

“Sensei, it's ok,” Naruto said. “We're building a cool bonfire for the class, I'm helping! I know the best places for them! We can sit around and drink pine tea and toast hot dogs, like you used to do!”

“Credit to the kid, he commits,” Mizuki drawled. Iruka shot him a glare.

“Mizuki, what’s going on?”

“What do you think?” Mizuki said. “I’m saving your life.”

“Have you lost your mind?” Iruka asked. “How is kidnapping a student and building an illegal fire saving my life?”

“Iruka, are you blind? He’s not a student!” Mizuki spat. “He’s an evil spirit! Do you realize what’s been happening? No! You’ve been bewitched, by that- that _monster_. I’ve seen him—him and that Kakashi. They’re not human! They’re _shapeshifters!_ ”

Iruka felt his heart seize in shock. He must have been awake, that night he’d slept on the couch. “Mizuki, you're talking about a child. Worse, you're talking about kidnapping.”

“Mizuki-sensei…” Naruto said uncertainty. “I- I don't-” His words cut off with a yelp when Mizuki swung the can forward, splattering him with lighter fluid.

“Stay away from him, demon!” Mizuki shouted. “Iruka, you need to get over here!”

“No!” Iruka retorted, hastily wiping at Naruto's face and backing the boy behind him. “Listen, it's not what you think!”

“Oh, don't be stupid, that thing isn’t human; it’s barely even alive!”

“Yes I am!” Naruto hollered, outraged. “I’m a real fox when I’m a fox and I’m a real boy when I’m a boy!

“Naruto, hush. Mizuki, I’m begging you please, please put that down,” Iruka pleaded.

Mizuki shook his head. “I know it looks like a kid, but it’s a trick. We need to get it away from you!”

“It’s not a trick!” Naruto shouted, ignoring Iruka’s attempts to block him. He wriggled out from behind Iruka, eyes glowing a faint gold. “It’s the deal. I won't go until Iruka makes his wish!”

Mizuki ignored him. “Iruka, if it’s tricked you somehow, I can help! Goddamn it, Iruka, get away from it!”

“No, I’m not- I don’t need your help, Mizuki! There’s nothing- nothing _evil_ going on here!” Iruka pleaded, “Let’s just all calm down, okay? Put down the knife, and the can. I swear, everything can be explained.”

The look on Mizuki’s face twisted into an ugly snarl. “That fox has bewitched you! He's playing games!”

“You are threatening a child who hasn’t done anyone harm, and you expect me to help you?”

There was a spasm of true hurt across Mizuki’s face, and Iruka regretted for a moment—but then the expression on his friend’s face hardened. “You think you're so virtuous and righteous, so kind and stupidly soft-hearted,” Mizuki spat. “The delinquent with the heart of gold, darling success of the town. You think you're special!”

Iruka drew himself up rigidly, but bit his tongue against the sharp retort crowding his mouth. Instead, he turned to Naruto. “Let's go, Naruto,” he said.

“Look at me!” Mizuki shouted. “Iruka! Don't you dare ignore me! I’m trying to _save you._ ”

“We need to leave,” Iruka said, bracing his hands on Naruto shoulders and steering him along.

“But, Iruka sensei-”

“Now, if you plea- _hukk!” A_ t first, Iruka thought Mizuki had thrown something at him to knock him off balance. He stumbled forward and the pain took the rest of his knees out in one breathless rush.

“Iruka!” Naruto shrieked, scrabbling to keep him upright. The adrenaline was still coursing think enough through his veins that he managed to twist around and gape at Mizuki. But his friend was a stranger, stone-faced and enraged, and now his free hand was in his pockets, fishing for a light.

Fear, then, true, heart-shattering betrayal and fear swamped Iruka. His breath was shallowing and everything seemed a little too bright with shock, but he clung hard to his remaining shreds of calm. He dragged Naruto along as they crashed headlong into the thick forested woods, storming through snow drifts and shoving past sappy pine boughs, Iruka, ignoring the raging, burning pain deep in his shoulder that threatened to swamp his senses with each step. But the blood loss was starting to lighten his head and trip his steps; they barely managed to scramble around a massive granite boulder when Iruka’s knees finally gave out.

“Naruto, go,” he said, blinking against the lightheadedness of shock. “Go, go, now!”

“No way,” Naruto said, and frightened tears were gathering in his eyes. “I won’t leave you!”

Iruka impulsively pulled him into a tight hug. “Naruto,” he said low and warm. “I wish… _I wish for you to be safe_.” The words rolled away from his mouth, heavy and oddly resonant with truth and sincerity.

Naruto sucked in a shocked breath as his eyes flared a fierce molten gold.

“Go,” Iruka whispered, and finally, the wish took hold. Naruto whirled about in a flash and streaked off through the snow.

“Iruka!” Mizuki roared. “Come out here you coward! I did this for you, you ungrateful bastard!”

With a deep breath that left him reeling, Iruka counted to three and forced himself to round the boulder and face his attacker.

“Mizuki, please,” Iruka panted. “Don't do this. We're friends, aren't we?”

“We are. We are, and that’s why, you see? That’s why I’m doing this. For you, Iruka!”

Iruka’s jaw worked for a moment. “He’s not like that. I know him. I- I trust him.”

Mizuki smiled, but it was hard and cruel. “God, you’re an idiot. Actually,” he laughed, “Why am I wasting my time? You know something? You deserve _nothing_ , yet you get everything you want, you know? Your parents die, so the mayor takes you in. You suck up to Tsunade, so you get the job. You attract an evil spirit, and instead, you get _everything you want_. You _trust_ him? Everything about you disgusts me,” he shouted.

Iruka gritted his teeth against the pain, and steadied himself on the boulder. “Jealousy is an ugly look, Mizuki,” he warned.

Mizuki responded by tossing the lighter fluid at him, and Iruka couldn't dodge fast enough – the can smashed into his shoulder and his knees buckled at the agonizing pain. The lighter fluid made his head swim and he barely had the presence of mind to note Mizuki approaching him.

“You know, I thought I'd be fox hunting today,” Mizuki considered him with a calculating eye. There was no shred left of the friendship that Iruka thought they’d shared.

“Hey Mizuki,” Iruka panted. He bared his teeth, a grim parody of his old trickster smile. “There are other things in the forest besides foxes.”

Mizuki frowned in confusion, just as a low rumbling began echoing in the air around them. The sky overhead darkened swiftly, split by the bone crack of lightning, and Mizuki shouted in sudden fear and alarm, or maybe it was just the blood loss; Iruka heard the roar and screaming from very far away as the spots crowded his vision and dragged him down into unconsciousness.

 

“C’mon, Iruka-sensei, one more round!”

Iruka grimaced. He was soaked with sweat, his face pale and tight with pain, but he gritted his teeth and trembled through the last set of stretches. Naruto obligingly cheered as he then flopped onto his side and panted for breath. Though he’d completed physical therapy for his injury, his housemates were more than eager to make sure Iruka continued the recommended exercises.

“You’re a natural coach,” Iruka said, smiling even though he felt like an overcooked noodle. “Have you been spending time with Gai?”

“He tried to make us climb the temple steps on our hands,” Naruto told him flatly, before shrugging. “But I guess he’s pretty cool. C'mon, you said you had a surprise for after!” he bounced danger close to Iruka’s weak side then yelped when big hands swooped him up and away from Iruka.

“Maa, don’t be so exhausting,” Kakashi sighed as Naruto leaned into his new situation and clambered up onto his back. It looked even more uncomfortable than it must feel, seeing that Naruto was a little too big now and Kakashi still approximately the thickness of a whippy little stand of bamboo. “You’re so heavy.”

“Man, Kakashi, how come your hair is still so fluffy like this,” Naruto asked, plucking at the silver-gray tufts with deep interest. “You have sooooo many white hairs, like actual ones.”

“Go be annoying in your room, you obnoxious little monkey,” Kakashi grumbled, gently disentangling him and shoving him towards his bedroom. Naruto ducked and twisted back around so he was hanging off the back of the couch instead watching the two adults with curious glittering eyes. Kakashi ignored him and crouched down next to Iruka.

“… You good?”

“Yep,” Iruka said, and accepted the hand up. It had been weeks since he'd woken up in the hospital room, with a tearful Naruto and bemused town mayor at his bedside. Sarutobi, as well as Detective Morino, had had a few questions for him in the wake of a situation that saw one missing child found miraculously in the Sarutobi courtyard, one Konoha school teacher unconscious and bleeding in the middle of the forest, and another teacher whose memory was so scrambled he could barely remember his own name. Thankfully, Gai had been able to track them both down with one of those half-feral temple dogs before anyone incurred any more serious injuries. Iruka was well on the way to recovery, and Mizuki was awaiting a psych evaluation.

Still, it felt like something significant had changed since that fraught and terrifying afternoon. The wish had been made, Naruto’s duty discharged, yet he showed no signs of leaving, and neither did Kakashi. And Iruka caught himself sometimes thinking a month, a year, a decade ahead – should he look for a new apartment? Should Kakashi find work? What about if Naruto decided to go to college?

But Naruto was a fox, and Kakashi was a dog, and Iruka wondered if he was as much a fool as Mizuki had accused him of being.

“Ready to go?” Iruka asked.

Naruto grinned, and slipped his hand into Iruka’s, easy and natural enough to warm his heart and belly.

They headed out of the house, Kakashi loping besides them on all fours. Outside, the hard winter was showing signs of thaw, the mountain creeks and streams bubbling noisily under the thinning ice. Naruto paused as they crossed the footbridge. He chose a dried, scooped oak leaf from the ground, cocked his head, and blew it from his palm. As the leaf drifted down to the water below, it shimmered into a full replica of a sleek sail boat, trimmed with jaunty orange sails. Naruto shot Iruka a proud grin as the leaf boat meandered cheerfully down the rushing stream, a bright spot against a background of murky green and grays. It seemed like granting wishes did increase his powers—he was able to cast small illusions now, though Iruka had had to sit him down and set some ground rules after he’d tricked Ebisu-sensei into taking a bite of a pinecone. Iruka smiled back and they continued into town.

It was sunny and cloudless, and it seemed like everyone in Konoha was taking advantage of the mild weather. They were stopped several times by well-wishers and acquaintances, all who smiled and allowed themselves to be charmed by Iruka-sensei’s young and lively companion. Even Ino ran out of her father’s flower shop to chat with Naruto—something quite serious, and by the look of Naruto’s face, mildly alarming, about Sakura's upcoming birthday. Kakashi finally yawned his great big maw and shoved his muzzle between the two children, both demanding attention and allowing Naruto to scamper behind Iruka.

“Where’s Kakashi anyways? Isn’t he supposed to be stalking you?” Ino asked bluntly. The stalker in question flicked his ears in irritation then primly retreated from her side, delicately stepping on her sandaled feet as he did.

“Sorry, Ino-chan, he’s got no manners,” Iruka said, biting back a smile and hustling his companions away.

About a block later, Naruto noticeably perked up.

“Iruka-sensei,” he said a little breathlessly, “are we getting Ichiraku?”

“We could, or maybe we can try somewhere new,” Iruka teased, but Naruto was already fist pumping his excitement and loudly pondering how many noodle servings he could get away with.

“One refill, at most,” Iruka warned as they clattered into the restaurant.

Teuchi and Ayame greeted them cheerfully as they came in, and directed them back to a table in the back, instead of the usual cluster of stools at the bar. 

Naruto peered at him curiously. “Everything is okay, right, sensei?”

“Sure,” Iruka said. His gut felt a bit curdled with nerves, and the ache in his shoulder felt especially sharp. Across from him, Naruto looked worried—something that seemed to happen far more often these days than Iruka liked.  

“Is it that bastard Mizuki? Did he do something again? Because I'm not afraid—”

“It's nothing like that, I promise. Mizuki can’t hurt anyone anymore,” Iruka said hastily. And there was a spasm of regret and sorrow with those words, but it was matched with guilty relief that Naruto was safe, safe, safe. Thankfully, they were interrupted as Kakashi slid into the booth, human-shaped and bundled up in his usual gray scarf. Ayame was on his heels to take their orders.

Then, it was quiet again. Iruka glanced at Kakashi, who managed a crinkle of his eyes, then to Naruto.

Well, then.  “I received a call from Sasuke’s brother, the other day,” Iruka said. “He’d like to invite you to come up to the city with Sasuke for a weekend next month, while he’s on leave.”

Naruto’s eyes widened. “Really? I’ve never been to a city. Man, that’s gonna be _so cool._ ”

“Well, if you go, you’ll need to be on your best behavior,” Iruka warned. “That’s a really nice thing that the Uchiha’s are doing. They don’t get to see each other very often.”

“Can I go? Please?” Naruto bounced in his seat. Kakashi, looking bored, propped his forearm on his blond head and pinned him down with his weight.

Iruka scowled at him, but Kakashi just lifted a thin silver brow pointedly. Naruto, immovable as he was, swiveled his gaze back and forth between the adults suspiciously.

“What’s going on? Iruka?” he asked.

Iruka sighed. “Naruto, if you want to go, then yes, you should. But…” And this was the part that Iruka still wavered on. “Before we decide that, I think I should ask you a question. It’s something I should have asked you a long time ago, probably, and I’m sorry that I didn’t address this sooner.”

Naruto stared apprehensively, so Iruka tried to smile through his nerves. It seemed silly, to be so terrified of asking a simple question, but Iruka was always horrible at managing anxiety.

“Naruto, would you like to stay with me?”

“I’m already staying with you,” he replied slowly.

“Yes, but,” Iruka laughed a little. “Not because of a wish, or obligation. I mean, I think that, maybe… I’ve not many people to call my own, but you’ve become someone I’d like to think of as family. And I would never want to replace your mother and father, but I hope I can be a… brother.”

“Iruka-sensei,” Naruto said, then stuttered to a stop, speechless.

“I’d like you to stay with me, for as long as you’d like, whether that’s another week, or ten more years,” Iruka said, voice firming up.

“I…” Naruto looked shocked. A taut silence filled the space between them.

Finally, Kakashi sighed and gently dropped a fist onto Naruto’s head. “You’re supposed to say something, kid.”

Naruto laughed, then he sniffed and scrubbed his face with his fist. “Yeah, okay.” His voice wobbled, but he was putting on a brave face.

Iruka felt a little like crying himself, but he just swallowed around the thickness in his throat and bobbed his head. “Yeah,” he echoed, blinking rapidly against the swelling, bright joy in his chest. “Okay.”

Besides them, Kakashi hummed indulgently, and then Ayame was setting down their steaming bowls of ramen. Outside, the wind was picking up again, late season snow once more scenting the mountain breeze.

But for now, Iruka grinned helplessly at Naruto, his little fox brother, and Naruto grinned back.

“ _Itadakimasu_!” Naruto shouted louder than usual, and his family chorused back the same with great cheer and laughter.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also a half-hearted presence at chouette.dreamdwidth.org.


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